


Welcome to Storybrooke

by peacehopeandrats



Series: Second Chance [1]
Category: Gargoyles (Cartoon), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Post-Series, Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), United Realms (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22110334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacehopeandrats/pseuds/peacehopeandrats
Summary: "I thought my story came to an end a long time ago, and then new people came into my life, people who gave me a second chance." - Regina, Good Queen of all the RealmsYes, this uses a Regina quote in a Gideon story, however I felt I had to use it, since it is the very spine of what Gideon's story is. In this series Gideon returns to Storybrooke and has to fulfill his own destiny as well as trying to fit in to a place where he had once been unwelcome. He is a very different man than the one who tried to kill the savior, but do the others trust him enough to truly accept him as one of their own?
Series: Second Chance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591525
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

The night was pleasant, but held a nip in the air that made Grumpy tug the collar of his shirt closer to his neck. Beside him, his brothers chatted and laughed about the evening's events at the Rabbit Hole, but thanks to the distraction of the chill, Grumpy's attention was drawn to the air around them. Somewhere overhead he heard a swoop of wings and looked up, frowning into the darkness.

The others walked ahead of him a few paces, then turned to complain about his distraction.

“Come on,” Sleepy grumbled. “I want to get to bed.”

“You don't need a bed,” Happy returned cheerfully. “You fall asleep anywhere.”

Grumpy flapped a hand at them. “Sssh!” He turned in place, taking in the street, the buildings, then the sky again. “Didn't you hear that?”

“Nope,” humphed Sleepy.

The woosh came again, louder this time.

“Yep,” said Doc. “I heard that.”

The group moved to the center of the road, instinctively finding the one place where they could take in most of the sky and making a circle there, backs pressed together.

“What is it?” Doc whispered.

Grumpy shrugged. “Don't know. Sounds big.” The rushing noise came again, twice. “There's two of 'em,” he added gruffly.

“Sounds like a dragon,” Sleepy yawned.

“Too small,” Sneezy told him. At that moment a large beast swooped down and landed on the patio at Granny's. “See,” he said, pointing. “It's looks more like that Chernabog thing.”

This set the entire group into a jumbled chatter that could only be stopped by Grumpy slapping each of their arms to get their attention. He shushed them again, one finger held to his lips as he squinted at the diner across the street. The creatures had landed in the shadows, so working out _exactly_ what they were wasn't easy.

The whatever-it-was stretched its wings, then folded them like a cape, giving the other beast space to land. The second creature was much smaller, about half the size and it squatted on all four of its thin limbs while the larger beast stood upright. The two chatted quietly for a moment, then parted, revealing a tall, figure wearing a hooded cloak that was as black as the night sky.

Grumpy's eyes went wide. “He's here! He's here!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, pushing away from his brothers and out into the night, eager to spread the news.

* * *

The hooded stranger took in a deep breath as he tried to get a feel of his surroundings, then smiled at the two who had traveled with him. “Thanks, guys,” he said almost sadly.

“You sure you don't want us to stay?” The smaller asked as he nodded to the small group who had taken off through the streets on their arrival. Their shouts were still echoing through the town, though it wasn't possible to make out what any of the escaping crowd were trying to say. The message was clear enough though. The newcomers hadn't been expected.

He put a hand on the creature's bony shoulder. “You always were my favorite sitter,” he told him with a chuckle. “I'll be fine.”

“We can stay,” added the larger, boisterous creature.

Looking skyward with a sigh, the new arrival finally relented. “I suppose it really _is_ too close to sunrise, _but_...” He looked over his shoulder at the now deserted town. “Maybe find a place away from everyone? Until things are a little more... settled. Somewhere in the woods. I'll come find you tomorrow night.”

Both of the beasts nodded, but it was the little one who stepped forward, standing on tiptoe and stretching his long, batlike arms to grasp the man's cloak in a friendly gesture of caution. “Remember,” he said sternly. “Children belong to the entire clan.” He didn't give time for an answer, simply released his grip and followed his larger brother to the diner. Together, they dug claws into the structure and climbed to the roof, where they lept off into the night.

The cloaked man watched them go until he could no longer make out their shapes among the stars. He hadn't intended for them to stay, but the longer he stood in the empty night air the more he realized he might just need them after all.

Within moments the stillness was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps. He listened for a breath or two, trying to guess at the number and deciding that he was most likely being surrounded. Taking a deep breath he turned to face the oncoming mob.

He recognized almost all of the faces: the queen, the prince and princess, the pirate... and the one they called the Savior. He tried not to scowl at the title, even though he knew his face was hidden in the shadows of his cloak. As he took a step toward the group, everyone froze, eyes wide.

It was the Savior who moved first. Squinting at him in confusion, she took several steps before hesitating, opening and closing her mouth as she struggled with what to say.

Carefully he raised his hands in a gesture of peace, then placed them on the fringe of his hood and pulled it back, letting it fall.

“Gideon!” It was Emma who cried out first and it was Emma who rushed to close the distance between them, arms flung wide to tackle him in a tight embrace once she was close enough to reach him.

The others followed, one after another, creating a buzz of conversation that he simply couldn't find the beginning or end of. They all pressed close, squeezing his arm or finding a way to embrace him, the feeling so overwhelming that he lost all capacity for speech. 

When the chatter died down he gave the group a smile, then bowed low as he found his voice. “Your Majesty,” he said before standing again to face Regina. “I would like to request-”

“Stop, Gideon,” she said sharply, though her smile was larger than any of the others. “No child of Belle and Rumplestiltskin would ever be turned away from their home.” she stepped closer and grasped his arms in a motherly gesture. “Of _course_ you are welcome here.”


	2. Chapter 2

The relief Gideon felt at being accepted was overwhelming. Until the Queen herself had quite literally welcomed him with open arms, he hadn't realized just how nervous he had been about returning to a place that he never remembered calling home.

“I...” he started to say, then blinked at a familiar form in the crowd, smaller than the others, but with a kind face. “Fairy Godmother?” His voice cracked as he spoke, overcome with the joy of connecting to someone who was as close to family as he could now have.

“Yes, Gideon,” she answered as the group parted for her to move closer.

Without giving any thought to propriety, he scooped her up into a tight hug.”I am _so_ glad to see you,” he said spinning around once before setting her back down again. He realized too late that such behavior was not only inappropriate, but shouldn't have been possible in the first place. “I'm sorry,” he whispered as he straightened himself up and tried to control the flush he felt growing in his cheeks. “That... I just...”

Blue smiled up at him. “I understand,” she said warmly. “You have been away for a very long time and you returned to a place where your parents could not welcome you. I hear you finished your studies and that you were top in your class.”

“Yes,” he told her. Others might have questioned how she knew such things, but Gideon had heard enough tales of fairies to understand how the bond between godmother and child worked. “It's why I returned. I need your help.”

“First,” Regina cut in, “I think we should get you settled. Your father left everything for you, the house, the shop, the library... all placed under a preservation spell.”

Gideon frowned. “Papa didn't use magic like that.”

“I did it for him,” she amended, dipping her head in acceptance of the correction. “At his request. He wanted you to have everything just as he and your mother left it. I've called to restore power and water to the house, but the rest will have to wait until tomorrow, if that's all right with you.”

“Yes. Of course.” This sounded more like his father, a practical man with no use for magic. 

Gideon thought about the cabin at the edge of all the realms, where his parents had lived their simple life. He felt the sun on his face and recalled the scent of roses and smoke in the air. His family had lived many places but _that_ had been home, even though he was grown when his parents built it and so had never truly lived there. It was where his mother was, where she and his Papa had spent their best years, simply together and in love with no one else to bother or judge them. They had lived an endless day free of worry and that knowledge made the far distant location more fitting of the title “home” than any other could be.

“Thank you,” Gideon finally said once he realized he hadn't spoken a word of gratitude for the effort the queen had put in to his future happiness. “I... I'm not sure how long I will stay, but I _would_ welcome the chance to settle in a place where my parents once did.”

Regina stretched out her hand to indicate the main street. “It is a little bit of a walk,” she said. “But it's a nice one. I would be happy to show you.”

“Can we all come?” The voice was Snow White's and her expression looked pained. “I know you don't remember us, but we remember _you_ and we've missed _so_ much...”

Gideon looked at everyone, unsure of how to respond. Not only were these people virtually strangers to him, known only from stories, a couple of dream catcher images, and his Papa's photographs, but how was he meant to turn down the royal family? “With all respect, Princess-”

Several coughs and the sound of shuffling feet told Gideon that he had somehow made a terrible error. He swallowed hard against the feeling of dread that built in him over having caused an offense. His father had never told him _what_ had happened here in the past, but Gideon _did_ know that something happened here before his childhood and that it wasn't a pleasant time for anyone. It had taken him months to build up the courage to come and face that, knowing he would have to right whatever wrongs loomed over him. This was not the first impression he was hoping to make.

Emma cleared her throat and stepped closer, a crooked grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. “So, your parents missed this part,” she muttered conspiratorially as she tipped her head to the royals behind her. “Mom and Dad. Queen and King. Basically, a king or queen before the curse means a king or queen here too. The place is _littered_ with kingdoms and castles, “ she added as an aside. “Regina is 'Good Queen' at the top of the pile.”

“Right,” Gideon said with a sheepish grin and a low bow to her parents. “My apologies, your Majesties.”

“No offense taken,” King David assured him as he reached out to give a hearty clap to Gideon's shoulder. “And you're family. There's no need to be so formal.”

“Thank you, but I'm afraid formal is very much how I was raised,” Gideon told them with a shrug. “It may be a difficult habit to break.”

Queen Snow smiled at him warmly. “Take all the time you need.”

“And to answer your question-” Gideon cut his words short to prevent another formality, though he couldn't bring himself to call the Queen by name. In the end he simply let the awkward silence fill the place of a “Majesty” or a proper title. “I would welcome the company,” he said at last, not realizing the words were true until he had spoken them aloud.

The Good Queen beamed and gestured again at the road. “Then right this way...” She strode off at a pace that said she expected to be followed, a handful of others in her wake, but Gideon held back to watch an unfamiliar form that had tucked himself away in the shadows down the street. The man was tall, thickly built, and wore elegant clothing that would have fit better in a castle than on the main street of a modern downtown thoroughfare.

His fairy godmother noticed his hesitation and stayed with him, hovering at his side. She followed his gaze, but said nothing.

“Who is that man?” Gideon asked her after a while.

“Maurice,” she told him. “Your grandfather. Would you like to meet him?”

Gideon felt his brow furrow and his smile fade. “No,” he said without hesitation. “My father warned me to be careful of him. He did things in the past...”

“Gideon, you must remember that your father's stories of Maurice were tainted by their previous history together,” she offered gently. It was clearly a lesson meant to be learned, but Gideon wasn't having it.

“His castle is here?” 

Blue nodded.

“And did he remarry? Do I have aunts or uncles?”

At this she frowned, a look of confusion crossing her features. “No,” she answered with uncertainty. 

Before she could ask him why he brought up marriage and offspring, Gideon turned to her. “Then I will not go to him. I know of the things he did to my mother, of his intentions for her. Papa warned me that his moods turned on the wind when it came to our family. Papa's wish was for me to be happy and based on how my grandfather treated my mother, Papa did not believe my grandfather would have the same wish for my happiness.” He took a breath and looked away from the man who was curious enough to watch from a distance, but could not find it in himself to be welcoming. “If he inquires, please let it be known that I _will_ see him, but he must _want_ to see me. Until then I will happily respect his uncertainty.”

This little speech clearly impressed Blue, whose eyes widened. Her lips actually parted in a genuine smile as she bowed her head to accept his wishes. “That is actually very wise of you, Gideon,” she said. “Your father guided you well.”

“Thanks,” Gideon said, the warmth of his homecoming returning to him as they now began walking after the others, who had paused to look back at them. “And I'm sorry about before. Truly. I promise not to let such undignified behavior happen again.”

Blue laughed and he wondered if she were able to sense that he was teasing or if, by their designated bond, she simply knew more about him than anyone else could have. “I am glad to see you happy,” she said when the laughter ended. “It tells me much about how you were raised. Rumplestiltskin deserved the chance to embrace his fatherhood and his family. That fate was stolen from him far too soon. If you were close enough to ignore such physical inhibitions it means that his story eventually continued as it should have, despite his mother's designs.”

“He _was_ a good man, Godmother,” Gideon insisted.

She nodded. “Yes.” The word came with no hesitation. “As he was meant to be.”

* * *

The closer they got to the house the more certain Gideon was about where they were going. He could just make out the pinkish-purple in the darkness and actually laughed at the sight, making everyone turn to stare at him. In answer he waved a hand to the structure and said, “It's that one.”

Regina blinked at him, looking in the direction he had pointed, then turning back to study him. “You remember it?”

“No,” Gideon laughed. “It's purple.” 

“Wait until morning,” Princess Emma told him in a questioning tone. “It's definitely on the pink side of that description.”

Gideon shrugged as he walked. “My mother teased my father mercilessly about his fondness for purples and, sometime when I was very young, every shade of pink became included as a part of 'purple.' I don't really remember it happening, it just... always was.”

As they walked on there was much chatter among the others about the exact shade of the large building, many claiming pink was, in fact, the more appropriate term. Some brought up the fact that everyone had always given his father grief for his architectural tastes. Gideon could see both of these stories playing out and shared some brief descriptions of similar places they had stayed, but once they arrived at the front steps, the merriment diminished to a quiet hush.

“Well,” Regina said as she waved a hand to remove the spell that had captured the house in a moment of time which could never be relived. “Here we are, then. Do you... need anything?”

Gideon took a long breath, staring at the colored glass in the door, the details in the framing. He had lived here once, but he had been much too young to remember it, though he had seen a picture or two taken from inside. The last time anyone had crossed that threshold, he realized, it had been his Papa, probably as he held his mother's hand or pressed a palm to her back or took her arm in support. He could imagine the scene, but he couldn't _see_ it and the pain of that loss hit him hard.

“I think I'll be all right,” he said at last, fighting a tremble in his suddenly dry and useless throat. “Though... I do have two friends who fled into the forest for the night,” he warned, using their memory to boost his confidence and redirect his emotions. “Gargoyles by the names of Broadway and Lexington.”

“Seriously?” Emma's face crinkled.

Regina shot her a scolding look, then faced Gideon again. “Do you want me to send someone to look for them?”

“No,” he told her. “But they will be stone by day. If you could spread word that new statues in the woods should not be harmed, I would be grateful.”

She lowered her head at him respectfully. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” He turned to face the door again, unsure.

“The key is inside,” she announced softly, as if it were an afterthought. “And if you need anything, the telephone should also work. You... know how to use one?”

Emma huffed. “He's got gargoyle friends named Broadway and Lexington, I'm pretty sure he's got city smarts.” She winked at Gideon as a way to show she was playing around, which made him grin politely.

“I'll be fine,” he repeated. “But if I _do_ need something, I promise to let you know.”

* * *

Regina held back as the family said their goodbyes, one at a time, which took much longer than she felt she had the patience for. Of course there was nothing keeping her on the property once the spell had been removed, but she needed to see him settled in, she had a final deal to make good on.

“Well,” Gideon breathed after the last goodnight was spoken. “I can't thank you enough for everything.”

“There's a dream catcher,” Regina told him. “If you want it. And all the paperwork to go with the properties.”

The man closed his eyes against this information, looking as if he were deliberating on the outcome of his acceptance. Finally, with only mild reluctance, he met her gaze and nodded. “I would appreciate that, yes.”

She held out her hand, palm up, and a wisp of magic brought a file to perch perfectly on it, the dream catcher they had found in the Wish Realm resting on top. “Everything is in here,” she said, feeling the sadness of the day Rumple had given the forms to her, not knowing it would be the last time she would see him in her office. 

“Thank you,” he said as he took it, holding everything as if he thought it might crumble in his hands. With a final goodnight he turned, opened the door, and went inside.

Regina watched him disappear into the shadows of the building, wondering if he would use the electric lights or fumble around in the darkness until he got his bearings. 

Without warning a shout came from behind her, something frustrated and somewhat primal, announcing the presence of someone before the entire gathering was knocked around like bowling pins struck in the lane. “What the-?”

“Sorry!” The call was sharp and breathless as a blonde form dashed up the steps and reached for the doorknob.

“Hey!” Regina called out into the night. “You shouldn't go in there. At least let him have a moment alone!”

“Can't,” came the reply before the door opened. “He's my brother!” And just like that, the woman was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Alice opened the door to the pink house and rushed inside, barely managing to push it shut behind her before running straight into a wall and dropping to the floor. She landed hard on her backside with a sharp “oof” of surprise and blinked into the darkness. 

_Funny place to put a wall,_ she thought to herself as she stared forward at the lumpy surface, then noticed it wasn't a wall at all, but a person. Gideon, she realized. With some effort she maneuvered herself in the small space between the entrance and the man, rearranging her limbs carefully so as not to kick him or knock out any of the glass window behind her. It wasn't as easy as she thought it would be and part of her wished he would just move out of her way, but the rest of her knew that whatever emotion was keeping him in place was a strong enough thing that he didn't even react to her rude entrance.

Once on her feet, she stepped to the side and lined herself up with him, shoulder to shoulder. Well, arm to arm, really, since his height brought his shoulder well past her own. She gazed into the abandoned house, making out the forms of furniture and trinkets, but kept her mouth tightly shut. It wasn't easy, but he obviously needed quiet and she would give it to him.

The two stood together for what felt like ages before Gideon finally spoke, in a voice that sounded more sure of itself than it ought to, since it was connected to someone who was staring into the dark like a statue.

“You're Alice,” he said softly, keeping as still as stone.

She turned her head to look up at him. “Yeah.”

In the next breath his hand was on hers, fingers twining in a gentle squeeze, making her smile. Now this was more like it.

* * *

Gideon wasn't sure what he expected to feel when he entered his childhood home, but a total _lack_ of feeling certainly wasn't what he had prepared for. He stood, patiently waiting for a memory or emotion to hit him, but all he could feel was the cool stillness of a house that hadn't held people in it for a very long time.

Beside him, Alice fidgeted, her fingers twitching against his own. From his Papa's letters, Gideon knew that she was usually very talkative. He thought it must be torture to stand here silently as she waited for him to snap out of his reverie, but he admired her commitment. It meant a lot to him. The others had simply seen him off, but Alice had come inside.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, finally turning to face her.

Alice let out a sigh of relief. “It shoulda been me,” she told him confidently. “Wasn't gonna let anyone else do this part.” She gazed up at him with crystalline eyes, a lopsided smile growing on her face as she squeezed his hand again.

He smiled back and released her to take a few steps forward, searching for the switch to turn on the lights. “I guess we should look around.” 

“You spent any time in modern realms or-” The words stopped as the entry flooded with a bright glow, making them both blink. “Right. Never mind,” she amended with a grin.

Gideon shrugged. “We moved around a lot,” he told her as they passed the stairs and peeked in to the room at their left. “Some of the places we lived in were modern, but mostly we stayed in other realms.”

Alice nodded at the items he held. “What's all that?”

“Some of Papa's things,” Gideon told her. “Papers for the house, the Good Queen said.” He set everything down on top of a set of drawers near the entry. His hand hovered over the leather chords and tight string, knowing the pile held some all kinds of memories. After a moment he moved away, unwilling to face whatever it contained. It wasn’t the time, not yet.

He looked up as Alice wandered ahead of him, staring at the items hung on the walls and arranged on every shelf in sight. “Wow,” she said in an appreciative whisper. “Your papa kept a _lot_ of stuff.”

“Well, he did own a pawnshop here,” Gideon told her. “I assumed collecting things was part of his curse.”

“From what I knew of him, I think it was,” Alice said sadly. She spun quickly to face him, amending her words in a rush, her hands flying up to ward of any misunderstanding. “I mean the Dark Curse, not the one that brought him here.”

This made Gideon blink. “You think the Dark Curse gave him all of this?” He looked around the main room, took in the kitchen and the small table and imagined his parents sitting there, eating together. They would have held hands, fingers brushing over skin. His father would be whispering something to make his mother’s eyes cast downward and her lip tuck in between her teeth. “You think is made him collect things?”

“I think it made him _want_ things,” Alice told him, picking up a random trinket to examine before putting it down again. “It made him believe he wasn't full without things around him. He was...” She closed her eyes in thought for a moment, taking in a deep breath as if she could take him in with it. “He was a different sort of man when the darkness hit him,” she said at last. “I knew him before, right after he left you. And I saw him change. No man should have to-”

Gideon only realized he had wiped at his eyes when Alice cut herself off.

“Sorry,” she said hurriedly, rushing over to him and wrapping her arms around him so tightly that he worried he wouldn't be able to breathe. “Oh, I'm so dumb sometimes. I'm so, so sorry.”

“No, it's all right,” Gideon told her. “I want to know. I want to hear every story you can tell me about Papa after he left home. Was he…” His voice cracked as he swallowed down his fears over the answer to the question he was trying to ask. “Was he brave?”

Alice grabbed his hands in hers and squeezed them wish such force that he almost yelped. “He was. Oh, he was so _very_ brave.”

A smile grew on Gideon's face, even as tears trickled down his cheeks. “I knew he would be.”

* *

The two wandered the house, looking in every room, getting to know each other as they became familiar with their surroundings. Alice found so much of Rumple in Gideon, but could also recognize the parts of his mother that Rumplestiltskin wouldn’t stop talking about. His fondness for books drew him to every shelf in the home and led to long silences as he examined every spine. She knew from Rumple’s stories that he had his mother’s desire for adventure as well, which was something that worried her. Storybrooke wasn’t exactly a place where anyone came for that sort of thing. It was quiet and peaceful and couldn’t offer much to anyone who spent a lifetime traveling realms.

They ended up in the kitchen, opening cabinets and checking for supplies. There wasn’t much, but they found tea and prepared it, then sat at the table with a box of shortbreads between them, taking turns plucking one out to nibble on. “Sorry I can’t really offer you anything else,” Gideon said as they ate.

Alice shrugged. “We can get to the store in the morning. No worries.”

Surprise washed over Gideon’s face. “’We?’”

“Sure.” She reached out to grasp his hand for what felt like the millionth time. He was probably sick of her doing it, but she just wanted to touch him, _needed_ to feel that he was really here. “You didn’t think I was leaving you alone on your first night back.”

“Well, I…” Gideon looked around the house. “I’m not really sure what I thought, to be honest. I just knew I was going to end up here when I finished school.”

“Why-” Alice stopped herself and shook her head to rid it of the stupid question she was about to ask. The thing clung to her, refusing to be cast away, so she cloaked it in an apology. “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, because we all want you here, but… Why here? Your papa told me about his cabin at the edge of everything where the sun never set. He described the river and the waterfalls that cut away from the mountains… It always sounded so lovely.”

Gideon actually chuckled. “Are you telling me this place is a dump?”

“No!” Alice shoved at his arm playfully, glad that he was made of just the right parts of his parents to not take everything seriously. “I just meant… Well, you have that place, why come here?”

“I need to be here,” Gideon told her around a sip of his tea.

This made Alice blink. “You’re really gonna make me say it again?”

“Why?” The question seemed to be an honest one, delivered plainly, but after a while a grin began to crawl across Gideon’s lips and Alice realized he was teasing. He laughed when she realized he’d caught her, then shrugged. “I’m finishing the research I started at the academy. I ran out of resources there so when I graduated I came here.”

“How do you run out of resources at an academy?” This was truly shocking news to Alice. “Aren’t schools supposed to have everything they need to teach you things?”

Gideon shrugged and plucked another shortbread from the box. “What I’m trying to do isn’t easy. Its never been done before, but I know I can do it. Everything I’ve learned says it should be possible.”

Alice sat back to study him up and down. Rumplestiltskin once told her that his son had attended a school of the highest acclaim, but she’d had no idea of just how brilliant Gideon truly was until now. At least she assumed he was brilliant. He was talking about using magic in a way that had never been done before and since he wasn’t offering what this project was about, she decided it was super secret. People who did super secret magical projects were usually brilliant. “I don’t get to know what this thing is, do I?”

He sighed and stared down into his cooling tea. “Not yet. I need to speak to my fairy godmother first.”

“Perfect,” Alice told him as she downed her last sip of tea. “We’ll go see her in the morning too.” She crossed the room to wash her cup, then turned to take the cookie box from the table, only to meet his stunned face, mouth open in surprise. “What?”

“It’s just… You have family here. The girlfriend papa spoke about-”

“Oh, she’s my wife now,” Alice beamed, wiggling her fingers at him. 

He grasped her hand and studied the ring, distracted from his complaint enough to admire how it looked on her. “It’s beautiful.”

“Her name’s Robin,” Alice told him, then realized it might sound like she was naming the ring. “My wife, not the ring. Or my finger. I mean, some people name parts of their bodies, but-” She cut herself off as she realized that Gideon was staring up at her with a look of actual adoration on his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Don’t ever apologize for who you are. Not to me. If anyone should apologize, it should be me, for staring at you as if you’re a drop of water in an endless desert,” he said as he stood up to bring his own cup over to clean. “It’s just my father wrote so much about you. I feel like I’ve known you forever and having you here with me… It means a lot.”

She smiled. “Same here. I always thought you’d feel like a brother when I met you.” Alice let her shoulder lean against his arm in a sort of cuddly nudge. “Now I know it’s true.”

Gideon wrapped an arm around her and drew her close, easily tucking her under his chin. They stood that way until they heard the sound of water overflowing from the cup and he let go to finish washing it. “And you definitely can’t stay,” he told her at last. “Your wife is going to wonder where you’ve gone off to.”

Alice pulled her phone from her pocket and brandished it at him. “I’ll call her. She will totally understand.” She tipped her head in thought as she contemplated what Robin would actually say to her if she tried to explain that she had come away from Gideon’s home and left him to fend for himself. “She’ll probably be mad if I _don’t_ stay. She knew I was waiting for you.”

“All right,” Gideon finally agreed. “You stay, but only when she tells me she’s okay with it.”

* *

Less than an hour later, a knock at the door caused Gideon to jump. On instinct his eyes flew up to the ceiling, his heart leaping happily at the thought of Brooklyn or Lexington having found him. He wanted to give them a tour then stay up all night talking about anything that was completely irrelevant to this town or any of the realms that surrounded it. It wasn’t that Alice was driving him crazy, but he wanted to spend just a few moments simply being Gideon and not someone cast in the role of long-lost citizen in a story about his long-awaited homecoming.

Alice dashed from the sofa and hurried to the door, opening it with a soft murmur of thanks. Hearing the extra set of feet on the hard wood floor, Gideon rose to meet his new guest, lowering his head at the woman who entered beside Alice. “You must be Robin.”

“I am,” she said. “It’s good to finally meet you.

“Likewise,” Gideon agreed before gesturing to the spot he had vacated. “I know it’s late, but if you’d prefer to stay-”

She shook her head. “I should be getting back home. I know how much your return means to Alice and I don’t want to intrude.” She kissed Alice’s cheek before pulling away. “See you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything else.”

Alice patted the bag that was slung over her shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Gideon lifted an arm to indicate the way Robin had come in and walked forward to escort her to the door. They passed a tall, rolling bag that had been left there, as well as two smaller bags, filled with groceries and he couldn’t help wondering what his newly discovered sister had in store for her single night’s stay. “Thank you again.” He spoke to Robin even as he took in the deliveries. “I tried to convince her she should go home to you, but-”

“Are you kidding? As often as she rambles on about whether or not you’re going to come live here?” Robin’s smile was wide, it reached her eyes and made them sparkle with mischief. “I’d be be hurting her more to ask her to come back with me. She’d probably never speak to me again.”

As they left the porch and came down the stairs, Gideon’s eyes lifted to the empty sky as it did every night. His heart twinged in various directions from a handful of memories, pressing him to think of stargazing with his father, pulling him into memories of soaring over Manhattan, lifting him with the hope of finding a cure for his father’s curse in a new realm that held infinite wonders. None of those things were here, though and the still night gave him nothing but the past to work with, the stars blinking down at him silently, offering no hint of what was to come.

“Penny,” Robin said beside him. 

Shaking off his thoughts, Gideon turned a smile to her. “Just… looking for my friends,” he told her. It wasn’t mostly the truth, made more real by speaking it aloud.

The woman beside him gazed skyward. “They’re um…”

“Gargoyles,” he clarified. “They’ve been mistaken for all manner of magical creatures, especially on a dark night, so we agreed that they should remain hidden until they could be properly introduced.”

Robin waved a hand at him. “Since the last curse merged all the realms it’s not uncommon to see things flying around at night. Even the dragons, sometimes.”

Gideon felt his mouth drop open and snapped it shut. “Dragons? I knew the witch Maleficent and her daughter lived here, but I had no idea they took to their other forms.”

She nodded. “They do. So do the wolves.” Robin brought her eyes to meet his. “I’m sure your friends wouldn’t have any problems. You want me to get them?”

“I wouldn’t even begin to know where to look,” Gideon told her. “They flew off into the woods for the night. I know they’ll be safe-”

“It’s not easy,” she told him before he could say anything more. “Coming to a new place, starting over with people you only heard stories of and never met. We’ve all done it at one point. I mean, we’re all here, right?” Her smile grew, though there was a sadness behind it. “I totally get it. Alice does too. You’re not alone. I don’t know if it helps at all to hear that.”

Gideon’s head bobbed once. “It does. A little.”

“Anyway, if I see any gargoyles on my way home, I’ll tell them where you are.”

“Thanks.” The corner of Gideon’s mouth quirked upwards. “Not just for that, but for everything.”

“I guess you’re my brother in law now,” Robin said. “So don’t thank me, just enjoy your time together.” She nodded up at the porch where Alice stood waving, then raised her hand to blow a kiss.

“I’m sure we will,” Gideon promised as she started to walk away. As the words left him he felt the length of their meaning stretch out from the moment he was in and reach well into the future. He returned to the porch and stood beside Alice, who snaked her arm around his back and pulled herself into his side. They didn’t share any words as Robin walked away, somehow they didn’t need to, and in that moment the weight of loss lifted from Gideon’s shoulders. His parents were still gone, he would still go on with his life never hearing their laughter again, never again discussing his day, but where he was now wasn’t about being alone, it was about adding to a family that he never knew he had.


	4. Chapter 4

A loud clatter jolted Gideon awake and he rolled his eyes to stare over at the drawn curtains. He could see the light seeping out from behind them and pushed himself up on his elbows to properly take in his surroundings. Alice had insisted he take the main bedroom that night, saying she’d rather have the sofa downstairs, and since the clatter was coming from below him, Gideon had to assume the activity was hers.

“Alice?” He called out for her, bellowing almost too loudly, he thought, but there wasn’t an answer, only more scuffling of furniture and clattering of cabinets. 

Confused, Gideon stood and pulled on the pants he’d worn to town the night before. At some point in the next day or so he would have to ask the Gargoyles to take him back to New York to get what few things he kept there. All of his “modern” clothes were stored in a small corner of their castle as well as the books he owned and a few photos and other small trinkets, nothing really of value beyond sentiment. Having traveled all of his life, Gideon never really found objects as important as memories and it had never occurred to him that returning to _this_ home would be any different than returning to any of the others his parents had lived in. Even in her final days, his mother had insisted on keeping at least one change of clothes in case he should need it, so he’d left everything behind when he came to Storybrooke. It had been a shock opening closets and drawers to find them half empty, as had the realization that he was no longer a proper size to borrow anything that his father would have worn, something he hadn’t done in ages.

He stared at the armoire by the door, feeling a sadness slowly consume him. Nothing could be borrowed now, not any more. Everything in this house, everything in all of the buildings his parents had a claim to was simply his and the grief of that hit him like Goliath swooping down at a full on dive.

Scrubbing moisture from his eyes, Gideon made his way to the landing and called down the stairs again. “Alice?” There was more shuffling, the sound of drawers being opened and closed, and what could have been coffee mugs being put down on a counter, but no one called back to him.

The stairs creaked a little as he put his weight on them, but he ignored the sound, since whoever was on a mission of destruction in his kitchen seemed completely unaware that they were being yelled at. Still expecting a somewhat petite blond as he reached the ground floor, Gideon actually yelped in surprise when he looked up into the kitchen and found a very masculine silhouette backlit by the morning sun that seeped through the window. This sound the intruder heard, but his reaction was so subdued that it was almost unreal.

“Oh, hey,” the voice greeted him before the body turned, revealing bright eyes and a familiar smile. The man Gideon faced lifted a mug. “I made coffee.”

Gideon blinked at the stranger’s casual nature, studied the small growth of dark hair around the man’s chin and strained through his memories to come up with where he’d seen every detail before. Finally a picture came to him and he smiled. “Baelfire?” He turned to where he’d seen a framed photograph of his parents only yesterday, taken with the man who stood in front of him now. It was the same smile, the same face, everything was just as his father had so often described, especially the grin and the spark in his eyes. “Or… Neal?”

The man shrugged. “Back when I was alive I always insisted people called me Neal, but Papa never really followed along with that.”

“He’s the one who named you,” Gideon reminded his brother. “I understand why he’d be reluctant to give up on something that kept you close to him.”

“Yeah.” Baelfire took in a hiss of a breath. “I get that now. I didn’t back then. Your mother usually stuck with Neal, though. She’s a really great woman.”

The mug was then lifted higher as a second offering of the steaming beverage and Gideon realized he was standing stupidly in the middle of the floor, simply staring at the brother he’d never met, the brother who shouldn’t even be here. It was then that it occurred to him exactly what was happening. “Sorry, I… I know you’re just a dream, but that’s no excuse for my bad manners,” he murmured as he reached for the mug.

This made his brother laugh. “You might be dreaming, but I’m really here.” He grabbed his own coffee and took a seat in one of the chairs, sipping at the liquid inside as if it could actually burn him. “Couldn’t let my little brother come home without giving him a proper tour, could I?”

“If you’re here…” Gideon held so many questions in his mind that it was difficult to work out which to ask first, but Baelfire anticipated the most important one of all.

“I haven’t seen them yet,” he said easily, casting aside any eagerness with a lazy shrug. “The way those two go at it, I figured it was best to give them some time alone first. I’ll know when they’re ready.” After another sip from his mug, Baelfire grinned. “They really do love each other. I’m happy for them.”

Gideon moved to a chair of his own and lifted the mug to his face, taking in the scent. It was rich and wonderful, and so very real that he could almost forget he was still upstairs, asleep in the bed that had once belonged to his parents. “I always thought a kiss of true love would be what broke Papa’s curse, but it was never to be.”

“Oh they had that,” Baelfire beamed, his eyes sparkling with the joy of the news he shared. “Right after they reunited. I think it must have blinded just about everyone in every realm of the afterlife.”

Suddenly Gideon felt light, a combination of joy and dizziness that was reminiscent of the time they visited the realm where people could float away with a single, happy thought. He actually had to glance up at the ceiling to make certain that he wasn’t drifting closer to it. A hand reached out to rest on his arm, drawing his gaze back to the table. “They’re happy. They really are.”

Tears dropped from Gideon’s cheeks and he reached up to wipe them away. “I’m glad. I didn’t think Papa could take another moment without mother. He was always so lost without her and when she died-” His voice gave way to his emotions, cracking from the strain of being held in.

Baelfire gently clamped his hand tighter on Gideon’s arm. He squeezed, but remained silent, allowing his brother the release of grief too long held in. It might have been the silence between them, or the physical contact that felt so real, but Gideon soon found himself lost in every emotion he’d hidden away since news of his father’s death had reached him. Home had always been wherever his parents were and now they were no more. He was lost, adrift, an orphan with no place to call his own and no one left to anchor himself to.

Once his eyes were finally clear of the moisture he’d forced them to hold back, Gideon looked down where his brother’s hand made contact with his arm. Following the line of the man’s body, his gaze drifted over flesh and cloth until their eyes locked together, serious and soft. The orbs he looked into were red and Gideon knew his brother was hurting too. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “You lost your Papa too, I shouldn’t-”

“This isn’t about Papa,” Baelfire told him before rubbing his face with his sleeve. “It’s about you.”

Gideon blinked in surprise. “Me?”

His brother gave a quirky grin and shrugged. “ _I_ get to see Papa and Belle… once they’re ready… Right now I get to spend time with my little brother and get to do something Papa asked for me-”

“He _asked_ for?” Gideon straightened, feeling an anger inside of himself that he couldn’t explain. There was no reason to be jealous of what his parents might have done or said before he was even born and yet how could they have said anything if they weren’t even expecting while Baelfire was alive. “How did Papa ask you for anything?”

Baelfire held up his hands in a gesture of submission. “Years ago, before they left town, Papa went to visit my grave and asked me to look out for you if he ever couldn’t. I wasn’t sure I’d be given the chance. I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting in line at a phone booth, you know?”

A few of his father’s stories from the past came to Gideon’s mind, but he couldn’t weave them in the right order to make sense of what his brother was saying. “Maybe?” He felt his mouth quirk up in an uncertain twitch of a smile and saw his brother’s mouth answer in kind.

“Right. Well what’s important isn’t how things work on my end, it’s that I’m here now and we get to do stuff together for as long as you’re asleep, so I think the first thing we should do is make Belle’s squash soup.” Bae stood quickly as he announced his intentions, his chair scraping the floor in his rush to leave the table. 

“Haven’t tasted that in years,” Gideon murmured, feeling the words drip with desire for the thick, creamy goodness. “Papa and I could never get it right.”

Opening the refrigerator and peering inside, Gideon’s brother spoke into the emptiness of it. “Great. What do we need?”

“There’s… nothing in there,” Gideon reminded him, though he did stand and cross the room as if his looking would change the situation.

Baelfire shot a grin over his shoulder that spoke of schemes and brotherly antics. “Your dreaming, right? Just think up everything we need. It’ll be there.” He shut the door tight and leaned his back against it, then folded his arms across his chest. “Trust me.”

Letting out a sigh, Gideon let his mind wander to every memory of every kitchen that he had ever been in. In each one his mother reached for ingredients, bowls, and pots, and in each she turned a smile his way. Sometimes her eyes were tipped low, in others they seemed to tilt upward forever, but in each place, no matter what his age or the height difference between them, her lips always moved, speaking as she worked. Once he had heard everything, whispers of comfort, exclamations of celebration, casual discussion about a part of their day, or even her thoughts on a book they were reading together. Now there was only the memory of sound and the silence was like a wound in his chest, slowly weeping the life out of him with every breath.

Gideon felt a touch again, and that same gentle squeeze. Without thinking, he latched on to his brother and pulled him close. “I’m glad you’re here.”

The words were followed by a slap on the back and an equally strong pressure around his own body. “You’re not alone here.” Baelfire spoke the words into Gideon’s shoulder, the difference in their height not allowing for much else. “Don’t you _ever_ feel alone here.”

Gideon nodded and after a moment the pressure around him was released so that Baelfire could stand at arm’s length and eye him suspiciously. It was an expression the younger of the brothers knew all too well and he rolled his eyes. “Go on,” Gideon chuckled. “You’re going to say it eventually.”

“How did Belle and Papa make someone as _big_ as you?” Bae laughed then went about taking pots and pans from various cupboards.

“I’m supposed to get my height from my grandparents,” Gideon told him.

“Right,” his brother said, though the amusement in his voice dwindled. He pointed a finger at Gideon then, eyes narrowing with concern. “Just _don’t_ go looking to the one you’ve got left. He’s bad news. Maurice would do anything for his own gain, even at the cost of the lives of his own flesh and blood.”

Gideon nodded. “I know some of the things he’s done. Mother told me. She doesn’t blame him, but…”

“She’s too kind to him,” Baelfire barked. “I don’t care if he is her father. Sending his own daughter across the town line while _handcuffed_ to the mine cart? What if Papa hadn’t saved her? She’d have starved to death, terrified, not knowing who she was or why she was trapped down there.”

“I know,” Gideon whispered. “If he ever calls on me to visit, I don’t plan on going to him alone.”

Baelfire gave a short, fierce nod of approval. “Good. So… what do we need from the fridge?”

Once more, Gideon closed his eyes to recall everything they would need and slowly compiled a list. “Butternut squash, about this big.” He gestured with his hands. “Some sweet potato, green apples, carrots, celery, chicken stock, double cream…”

“Salt and pepper.” Baelfire finished the list for him, punctuating the names of the final ingredients with the faint clink of glass shakers on the marble counter tops. “That everything?”

Gideon opened his eyes to see the items spread out before him and gave a bright smile, feeling the truth of his happiness reach inside of him for the first time since he arrived. “Yeah.”

“Great,” his brother said as he clapped his hands once, then rubbed them together with glee. “Let’s get cooking.”

Once the ingredients had been sorted and a short debate was held over the proper amounts needed for each item, Gideon found that he was almost as relaxed in the strange space as he would have been in his parents cabin at the edge of realms. Baelfire worked easily beside him, more aware of where things were kept and how everything operated, and that familiarity seemed to seep easily into his younger brother, who soaked up every minute of their time cooking together like a dry sponge dropped in a large puddle.

Gideon was thirsty for everything. He wanted to know what life was like for his parents here, what kinds of things his brother did once he arrived, and all of the stories he could tell about Henry, but what intrigued him the most was learning that, as Neal, his brother had lived in New York for many years. The common love for the big city soon took control of their cooking experience and many debates were had over where the best pizza or bagels could be bought. Baelfire’s experience with the city had been something more common than Gideon’s, filled with the places and events of someone who inhabited the daylight, while Gideon mostly recalled his travels at night with the Gargolyes. Though the experiences were quite different, they found that when they put their histories together they could create a complete picture of a place they both loved.

“I must have walked past that building a dozen times!” Baelfire’s exclamation came as they were once again seated at the table, spooning the soup they had made into their mouths, eyes half closed as they experienced the memory of it as well as the taste. “I had no idea it was full of magic and mayhem.”

Gideon smiled, his own eyes still closed as he enjoyed the flavors on his tongue. He swallowed down a chuckle with his soup, then opened his eyes and pointed the empty spoon at his brother. “No one ever looks up in New York,” he said with certainty. After taking another mouthful of their unconventional breakfast, a thought came to him and he pointed down at the steam drifting from the bowl. “Some nights, if the weather is just right, you can look up at some of the buildings with roof lighting and the steam from the vents looks like little spirits drifting around.”

“Ghosts in New York…” Baelfire’s eyes glazed over as he thought about that, then nodded. “I could see how it would happen. Never noticed it myself.”

“Because you never looked up,” Gideon pressed.

Finally giving in, Baelfire leaned back in his chair. “Nope. I guess I never did.” Suddenly his eyes narrowed and he leaned close, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “So what’s it like? Flying around over the city like that?”

Gideon shrugged. “It’s gliding, not flying and it’s… just… like gliding?” At Baelfire’s brotherly glare of frustration, he dipped his head to stare down at the table, wanting to hide the joy he felt at having a sibling to torment. “I’m not really sure how to describe it otherwise. You’re up in the air with the city below you, all the lights moving under your body like they’re being carried along in the wind…”

“Yeah, but… I mean… What if one of them dropped you?”

“You and Papa, honestly,” Gideon teased. “Are you afraid of heights?”

Baelfire gestured at the room around them as if it were the physical evidence of his own history. “I’ve been carried away in the night a few times, but… with Gargoyles?”

“Why does everyone assume that being carried off by a Gargoyle is any different than being carried off by anything else?” Gideon felt frustration build up inside over the idea that Broadway or Lexington or any of the others would allow him to come to any harm. “They’re faster than you think, and stronger, too.”

A huge grin spread over his brother’s face after that announcement. It was now his time to poke his spoon in Gideon’s direction before dipping it into his bowl of soup. “You’re blushing.” His eyes sparkled with glee when Gideon fidgeted in his place. “Uh huh. I _knew_ it. Which one of them?”

“He already _has_ a mate,” Gideon huffed, more upset at being caught swooning over someone than at not having had the chance to properly court the first object of his affections. “He lives outside of London.”

“Been there too,” Baelfire said, eyes wide. “Guess we’re more connected than we thought.”

“Guess so,” Gideon smiled back. “I’m glad.”

There was a pause between them then, a moment in which Gideon realized that the memories made here were going to have to last him a lifetime. He felt his heart sink a little at the idea that once Baelfire was gone there was little hope of his coming back.

As if he could read his brother’s mood, Bae stared down into his empty bowl and let out a sigh of contentment. “Well, since we’re done here and still together, how about a tour around town?”

“I’d love that,” Gideon said eagerly. He stood and cleared the table, taking everything to the sink to wash up. “Did you get to spend much time here? When you were with Papa, I mean?”

Baelfire sighed. “Not as much as I would have liked. Things are a lot quieter now than they were when I was here. Cora, Pan, the curse that sent us all back…”

“Papa told me how brave you were.” Gideon stopped washing to put a wet hand on his brother’s shoulder. Baelfire didn’t even blink at the dampness that began to spread in the cloth. “The things you did to save Henry… to save _Papa_ …”

His brother’s head hung low and shook sadly. “ _He’s_ the one who tried to save _me_.”

“Not the way Papa tells it.” The words came from Gideon before he realized the tense was all wrong, the stark contrast of the present stabbing at him with the truth of the past.

“Hey, leave that stuff. It’s a dream, right?” Baelfire’s cheerful voice cut in to the pain of Gideon’s loss and made him look up and away from the dishes in question. Already halfway to the door, his older brother waved a hand at the exit and flashed the grin of a scoundrel. “We’ve got a whole town to ourselves and I know all the best places to go.”

A glance at the sink revealed it to be empty, reminding Gideon that everything in this experience was playing out in a realm that wasn’t truly his own. “Where do we start first?”

“The only place we can,” Baelfire told him. “But you’ve got to close your eyes.”

Gideon blinked. “Why?”

“Trust your older brother,” Baelfire insisted, nudging Gideon’s shoulder, which was no longer bare, but suddenly covered in the simple tunic he’d worn the day before. “Though maybe we should walk down to get you some new clothes first…”

Glancing down at the cream colored cloth, almost-tight trousers, and wide belt he’d worn home from school, Gideon frowned. “I’d heard the _modern_ Storybrooke saw people in forms of dress from _many_ realms.”

His brother stepped back, arms folded, and eyed him up and down. “Well, sure, I mean, it’s up to you.”

Unable to contain his laughter, a sudden burst of joy spurted from Gideon as he reached to clap his brother’s shoulder again. “I have modern clothes in New York. _Jeans_ , if that’s what you’re going to question me about next.” His clothing for the city was actually a lot like his brother’s own, simple, plain shirts that fitted well, but were still comfortable, things that layered, all colored in creams, browns, and natural greens. 

Baelfire took in a hissing breath as he contemplated that. “You plan on running the pawnshop? Papa had a certain style he preferred for that, you now.”

“I’m not a man for suits,” Gideon told him, though he knew that some of his things would work for a sort of casual but semi formal look. “I’ll be respectable, but-”

“Good,” Bae cut in, grinning like a fool and Gideon realized he’d fallen for another tease. “He was too attached to those suits anyway.”

“We got him in jeans a few times,” Gideon boasted happily as they made their way to the porch, instructions of closed eyes completely ignored.

“Guess I’d better see if the underworld froze over some time, then,” his brother chuckled. 

The brothers descended the stairs and began their walk toward town, their comfortable silence broken only by the sounds of their shoes on the pavement. The absolute stillness of the world they traveled through was almost unnerving, until Baelfire stopped at the nearest street corner and cut in front of him. “All right. Now close your eyes.” Gideon rolled his head back in mock frustration, but did as he was told. After what felt like less than a single heartbeat, he was nudged and given another, simple command. “Now open them.”

Brilliant sunlight replaced the comfortable shade the pair had been standing in only a moment before and Gideon realized they were now in the center of an intersection, facing down one street that was lined with parked cars. “You came in from back there last night,” Baelfire said, gesturing behind them. “But no one thought to give you a moment to see this.” He moved so that his arm was as close as possible to Gideon’s line of sight and pointed first at one large building, then a smaller one across from it. “That’s Belle’s Library… and Papa’s shop.”

Gideon felt himself begin to dissolve into the pavement at his feet, but a quick and firm pressure to his back kept him upright. “They were so close to each other, even here.”

“Yeah,” Bae huffed. “Sometimes they were probably a little too close, especially when your mother thought she was a woman named Lacey.”

“They used to tease each other about that.” Gideon looked from one building to the other, still unsure of where to go, feeling that if he picked one, it would be like announcing which parent was his favorite. “But I never really understood it. I assumed it had something to do with their intimate relations…”

This made Baelfire belt out a loud, hearty laugh. “Lacey was one of your mother’s cursed personas,” he explained before pointing at a small building on the corner. “Lacey loved the Rabbit Hole and once Papa convinced her to start dating him, he would take her there and let her have a few drinks. Then they would walk down the street and _maybe_ make it into the library or the shop before their hands were all over each other.”

Gideon felt his jaw drop open while he followed the path his brother laid out before him. “I knew they spent time outdoors at the edge of realms, but… _here_? In the middle of town? How did Papa convince Mother to-”

“ _She_ started it,” Baelfire corrected him with a chuckle. “Her hands would be inside that suit almost as soon as they left the bar.”

“That explains a few things.” Gideon’s admission made his brother chuckle again. He turned in place, taking in the buildings and the empty sidewalks. Images of his mother as Lacey from what he already knew mixed and mingled with what Baelfire had just told him and could _almost_ picture his parents strolling casually down the street, arm in arm, one leaning against the other, laughing as if they had no cares in the world. They did that for each other, erased every worry, brushed away every cloud. His mother, scantly clad and not giving one lick of attention or care to traffic, would probably stop in the middle of the road and fuss with the buttons of his father’s shirt or run her hands under his jacket to pull playfully at his tie until he kissed her soundly.

Beside him Baelfire seemed to follow the couple that weren’t really there, sharing in Gideon’s imagination through the realm of dreams. “It was weird at first,” he admitted softly. “But once I saw how much they truly loved each other, it all made perfect sense. Papa let her be the adventurous woman that no one else would let her be. She could explore anywhere she wanted, learn anything she wanted, even ‘play’ any way she wanted… and that freedom made her accept who he truly was, see both the best of the man who raised me and the man who had been changed by the darkness.”

“They were made for each other,” Gideon whispered into the space between the shop and the library, wishing his words could pull his parents out of the buildings that had once been theirs and bring them together on the street in front of him.

Giving a small smile, Baelfire nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed as he wrapped his arm around his brother and pulled him tightly to his side. “They were.” A moment of silence passed between them before the brotherly embrace became a hearty slap on Gideon’s back. “Come on, let’s go get a drink. Start our tour off with a toast to their memory.”

They crossed the road and moved to the bar’s main door, but when Baelfire reached a hand to open it, the knob only jiggled. He attempted to let them in with a little shove with his shoulder, but had to pout back at his younger brother in the end. “You’re a rule follower, I see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gideon huffed, though he knew his brother was right.

“I mean it’s your dream and you’ve locked all the doors,” Bae explained as he fumbled in his pockets for a few small tools which he then stuck into the lock.

Gideon couldn’t help balking. “We’re breaking in?”

“It’s a dream, remember?” With a click they were allowed entry and Baelfire pushed the door open. “Come on.”

There wasn’t a reason for Gideon to hesitate to enter, yet every fiber of his being told him not to. He stood at the threshold, staring into the darkness of the bar, eyes following his brother’s movements. The man seemed to know his way around, easily making a path around the tables to the many bottles along the back wall. He snatched up some whiskey in one hand and two glasses with the fingers of the other, then clanked the collection down on the bar’s surface. Once the shots were poured he looked up and rolled his eyes as he tipped back his head in mock annoyance. “Come on, man.” He held up the bottle and waggled it. “It’s not real any more than the ingredients were for the soup, right?”

Finally stepping from the bright streets to the dim bar, Gideon shut the door behind himself and shrugged. “I don’t mind a drink or two, it’s just… everything is so real. I keep expecting something to happen.”

“Nothing will, not while I’m around.” Bae waved him over and rounded the bar to take a seat on one of the stools, then lifted his glass and poignantly looked down at the spare. 

Giving in at last, Gideon stepped forward and lifted his own drink.

“To Belle and Papa,” Baelfire shouted loudly. “May they finally enjoy the happily ever after they were denied in life.”

“They had that,” Gideon corrected, thinking about all of the years of peace, love, and adventure they had shared before their quiet “retirement” at the edge of everything. “May they enjoy their true love.”

Baelfire nodded sharply at that and raised his glass higher. “Now and forever,” he said before tapping the rim to Gideon’s in a light, musical collision of celebration.

“Now and forever,” Gideon repeated before they both threw back the drinks, swallowing the alcohol down in one gulp. Though it wasn’t real, Gideon felt it burn in his throat and his eyes went wide with the sensation.

His brother chuckled as he lifted the bottle to pour out two more shots. “Never done this before?” 

“I usually go for mixed drinks,” Gideon admitted. “Something that will last a few hours.” Across from him, his brother looked shocked and Gideon laughed outright as he moved around the bar. “Not such a good little boy now, hm?” 

Thinking of crisp fall days at the academy, he closed his eyes and imagined that the shelving around him contained everything he would need. A moment later, he got to work, pulling out more glasses and collecting various bottles from the shelves. Baelfire watched silently, mouth agape, as his little, supposedly innocent brother swiftly combined cider, whiskey, scotch, apple liqueur, lemon juice and just the right amount of bitters along with his specially made syrup into a shaker with ice, mixed one of his favorite drinks, dropped a few ice cubes into the empty glasses, and poured some of the drink over them for his brother to taste.

Baelfire blinked at the concoction, then looked up at Gideon. “I had no idea you had that in you.”

“I mean, I wasn’t born doing it,” Gideon told him. “Someone taught me, even if I did seem to pick it up easily just by watching.” He nodded at the glass before pouring the rest of liquid into his own. “I used to make these for fall festivals.” When his brother still seemed hesitant, Gideon laughed. “Now its my turn to tell you to trust me?”

Reluctantly, Baelfire lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. Swallowing it down, he let out a breath of surprise, something that sounded evenly balanced between a refreshed gasp and an intake to cool the tongue. “Wow,” he managed before taking another, longer gulp. “That’s really good. It’s got a kick, but there’s something sweet and … almost smoky to it.”

“I always thought each sip was like drinking in fall days by the fire.” Gideon shrugged and moved back around to the bar stool he had vacated, lifted his own glass, and enjoyed the taste of familiar memories in a place that was utterly strange to him. “I kind of have a thing for autumn weather. We used to visit fall festivals when I was growing up and some of my best memories are going to those fairs.”

The brothers sat for what felt like hours, telling stories as the liquid in their glasses dwindled then refilled once again. Gideon elaborated on the places they went as a family, describing some of the fairs and magical places they had seen even though he had worked out in their previous conversations that his brother had somehow already seen some parts of what went on without him. For his part, Baelfire listened to every tale as if it were the most astounding news from abroad. He asked questions that pressed for more details, laughed at the moments where his father found himself in some kind of pickle, and spoke fondly of Belle whenever she was mentioned. 

Baelfire told of his time in Storybrooke next. Though there was more pain in the words and more struggle in each event, Gideon’s mind pulled in everything, clinging to every second of the lives of his parents that was completely new to him. Somehow it felt as if they were still alive, existing only where he couldn’t see them, experiencing everything in a reality that he just couldn’t touch. He heard about Bae’s arrival from New York, the return from Neverland, and got many more stories about Lacey before his brother’s history took them back to the Enchanted Forest, the Dark Castle, and eventually his own ending.

“Without you I wouldn’t be here,” Gideon told him softly once everything had come to an end. “If you hadn’t saved Papa…”

“I just needed him to know I loved him,” Baelfire answered back solemnly.

“He knew,” Gideon told him. “And you don’t have to take my word for it, he will tell you when you see him.”

Bae nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered before gulping down the last of his second drink. Clanking the glass hard on the bar’s surface, he stood from his stool and clapped Gideon on the back. “Come on. Time to show you around.”

They left the Rabbit Hole and went to the docks first, on Gideon’s insistence. He wanted to see the harbor and the ship that his papa had sailed on. Along the way he learned he’d spent some time on board himself, though in his mother’s belly, and he had a laugh at the idea, even if he hadn’t been there in the best of circumstances. They wandered the outskirts of town for a while, stopping by the toll bridge and the mines before turning back into town. At each point Baelfire told the story of the place, and what significance they held in either Storybrooke’s history or the history of their family. 

After that, Bae took them to some of the important houses around town, showed him where their father’s friend Jefferson lived with his daughter, and where his own friend August lived with Geppetto. They also visited a building that Baelfire called the Author’s Mansion. This one they entered and Gideon stared, wide eyed, as they wandered the rooms, reliving the moments of his parents’ lives that neither of them /should/ know; the wedding, their first dance, and the days after. They visited the building’s library and talked about Henry and the responsibilities the Author title placed on the man who could hold the pen.

From there they wandered the woods until they came to a spot where a single well was set among the trees. Beyond, just past the ridge, the town of Storybrooke spread out before them.

“Belle and Papa reunited here,” Baelfire said, caressing the stone of the well. “Jefferson brought them together, but that was before Emma broke the curse, so Belle didn’t remember anything of her life in the Dark Castle. She woke up right there, they admitted their love to each other, kissed…”

Gideon stared at the ground where his brother pointed and felt a tear come to his eye. He turned sharply to stare at the well, then walked away to look down at the town that was his home, or at least would serve as home for now. Even though he felt the pull of it, knew the history of every street that was once so important to his parents, he couldn’t bring himself to feel as if he belonged within its boundaries. Behind him he heard his brother talking about his parents’ wedding, a simple affair that _should_ have included Jefferson and somehow didn’t, but inside he could come up with only one question.

“Why do I feel like I don’t belong here?” The words silenced Baelfire, who closed the distance between them and took a place at Gideon’s side. Gideon turned to him, feeling numb and alone, even with his brother there to guide him. “I look down and I know I have a history here, but some part of me, something inside of me is telling me I shouldn’t have come back. Is it my past? The one Papa wouldn’t talk to me about?”

“Do you remember any of it?” Baelfire’s question came with a one-shouldered shrug. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked back out to Storybrooke as if the answer would come flying up at them.

Gideon shook his head. “No. I know I was older. I know I did things I shouldn’t have and if Papa didn’t want me to know about them, I have to assume that what I did was horrible.”

“ _You_ didn’t do those things,” Baelfire insisted. He clasped Gideon’s shoulder, then forced him to turn and look into his eyes. “Don’t you _ever_ think that.” His hand reached up and gripped the back of Gideon’s head lightly, in the same way their Papa had always done when he was trying to be both affectionate and stern, when he would not accept a refusal of whatever point he was trying to make. “Papa wouldn’t let you think that way and neither will I.”

His brother released him to point down at the city below and continued. “ _We_ have family down there. Emma… Henry…. I know they’re totally capable of looking out for themselves, but maybe _I_ like the idea of your being here for them. And I don’t care if that’s selfish. It’s what brothers do.”

Closing his eyes, Gideon let out a long sigh. “Having my family’s blood here doesn’t mean I belong.”

Baelfire gave a shove that made Gideon open his eyes. They were standing in the middle of main street again, at the point that was exactly midway between the buildings which were the essence of both of his parents. “You want to know why you belong here? You weren’t just born here and you don’t just have your family’s blood here. Belle and Papa are here. Right here, in front of you. They left a part of themselves _for_ you because they knew you could find happiness here.” He pointed at the library and then the pawn shop as he spoke of each, head close to Gideon’s, one arm draped over his shoulders.

“I don’t… I can’t… How do I even choose between them?” Gideon swallowed hard against the decision he’d been avoiding and stared into the stillness of the day, listening to the faint stirrings of a town that was just beginning to wake.

“You don’t. Not now,” his brother admitted. “If it helps, Belle was at Papa’s shop most of the time. The library was basically her side thing, open when people needed it.” Baelfire shrugged and thrust his hands back into his pockets, then looked up and down the street. “Don’t think we have much time left. Wanna walk up and down once to get the feel of the place?”

Gideon nodded and fell into step beside his brother, who pointed at every shop front and had a little story to tell about each. The bakery had good bagels but they weren’t anything like the ones in New York. Baelfire suggested that Doctor Hopper and his dog Pongo might make good companions for the evening walks he knew Gideon liked to take. There was Geppetto’s shop and Granny’s, and the ice cream place that had such an odd tale that Gideon could barely wrap his mind around it. They paused outside the blue facade and contemplated helping themselves to a scoop, but Baelfire suddenly stepped away.

“You’re waking up,” he whispered.

Franticly taking in the sight of the cars, the buildings, and the almost cloudless sky, Gideon shook his head. “I don’t feel like it.”

“I feel it,” Baelfire sighed. “Alice is moving around downstairs, the noise is coming through. Damn it, I hoped we’d have more time.”

As if mention of the sound made it real, Gideon could hear the clanking of dishes. He nodded sideways at the window they stood beside. “It’s just people in the ice cream parlor, the noise of spoons in bowls…” The lie wasn’t going to make the dream last, and he knew it.

Baelfire didn’t bother to argue against him, just quirked his lips into a smile. “Guess we’d better say goodbye. Anything else you-”

“No!” Gideon snarled back, clenched his hands into fists, and bolted down the street in the direction of his parents’ home.

“Hey!” His brother called after him. Gideon focused on the sound of the other man’s voice, the thud of his shoes on the pavement as he ran after him. _That_ was what he heard, not the noises of domestic life. If he could keep himself focused on his brother he could stay in the dream, stay with Baelfire, be here forever. 

Within moments he was at the front door of the large Victorian that he would forever think of as purple even though it was pink. He burst inside and stared into the darkness, eyes narrowed to slits in his rage. “Alice!” He screamed the woman’s name, voice breaking.

“She’s there.” Back at his side again, Baelfire pointed to the couch, where the small woman was curled up, sleeping.

Still there were the clatters of kitchen things and the gentle humming of a melody that signified someone’s hope for a bright day ahead, but Gideon fought against it all. He glared down at the form on the sofa and screamed until his lungs burned and his throat was raw. “Keep sleeping! Stay asleep, do you hear me?!” His whole body shook with the effort to fight against this completely innocent person who had done nothing but take him into her heart before she’d even known him. “I don’t _want_ to be with you, I want to be _here_! Forever! I don’t have my parents! I _need_ my brother!”

The grip of strong hands pressed to his arms and it was only at that point that Gideon realized he was collapsing to the ground, weeping against the loss of the bliss he’d found himself in since Baelfire had arrived. Words came with the pressure, from somewhere behind him, whispered and soft, but strong in their conviction. “You can’t stay. And even if _you_ could, I couldn’t.”

Gideon’s body shifted on the floor, turning to that his back was to Alice, and he stared up at Baelfire, the brother he thought he would never know. “I can’t do this without you,” he whimpered as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I can’t.”

“You _can_.” Baelfire was suddenly at Gideon’s eye level, his gaze piercing. He lifted a hand to point at the sleeping Alice, but didn’t look away as he continued. “Alice is as much your sister as I am your brother. She believes that with her whole heart. _Everything_ inside of her has been waiting for you. Just like I was. Maybe I’ll come back. I want to now, more than anything, but if I can’t, promise me you’ll let her be here for you.”

The house was still now, frozen in the silence that had suddenly consumed it, and Gideon had to twist his head to see that Alice was still sleeping behind him, blissfully unaware of anything happening around her. It wasn’t happening around her, of course. She wasn’t real. None of this was real. Reality was something more complicated and lonely, reality was a lifetime without parents in a town he didn’t remember where his past now seemed to hover as a black cloud just behind his shoulder.

“Damn it, Gideon. Promise me you’ll let her take care of you,” Baelfire begged, his own voice cracking. “Promise me you’ll let her do what I can’t. Promise.”

Barely able to see beyond his tears, Gideon nodded. “I promise,” he squeaked, reaching out just as his brother reached for him. They grasped each other tightly and clung with such strength that Gideon felt like he was being squeezed in a vice. Baelfire’s tears fell on the exposed skin of Gideon’s neck and he knew his own tears were soaking Baelfire’s shirt, but neither cared. In their final moments together, each was refusing to be the first to let go. 

“I promise,” Gideon whispered again, into his brother’s shoulder, a shoulder that now smelled of linens left sitting on a shelf. He shut his eyes tight to prove his convictions, crushing Bae’s shoulders until they were soft and pliable before whispering again. “I promise.”

Suddenly there was movement behind him, followed by a creaking and the shift of what had once been a solid floor beneath his body. Where he rested felt softer now, strange, like a mattress and Gideon realized he’d left the dream behind, along with the brother he might never see again. His eyes opened to stare at the curtains that covered the nearest windows and the pillow held tightly to his chest. Behind him was the warmth of another body and the sound of gentle breaths. After a few heartbeats, a feather-light touch pressed to his back where the sheets had fallen away and exposed his skin. The heat from the fingertips that hovered there was searing, but only because Gideon knew it was real.

The room was quiet for a long time and Gideon welcomed the silence, but eventually that stillness was broken. “You all right?” A woman’s voice whispered softly into the space behind the back of his head.

“My brother was here,” Gideon murmured through fresh tears. “He showed me everything.”

She didn’t ask for an explanation, but the mattress shifted and suddenly the full length of Alice’s body was behind him, one arm forcing itself through the gap between his neck and the bed, the other landing securely over his chest. Somehow the hands met and she pressed her body flush with his, squeezing him with all the might of his own desperation. It was a strange thought, but it was also the utter and pure truth.

As Alice’s head nestled against his body, Gideon felt something ground him. His sobs eased and his racing heart slowed so that the sounds of the morning could finally come to him. They remained that way, silent and still, as Storybrooke woke around them.


	5. Chapter 5

When Gideon was finally ready to face the day, he gave no warning. One minute his chest was a lump of flesh in Alice’s arms and the next he was up and walking around the room in nothing _but_ his flesh. More startled than offended, Alice let out a playful yelp of surprise and grabbed his discarded pillow to put some barrier between her eyes and his immodesty.

“Sorry.” The word was bland, unapologetic. “I assumed that since you had a wife it wouldn’t bother you.”

“And I assumed you had pants on!” Alice couldn’t help but laugh at their situation. “I just wasn’t expecting to see the morning you in _all_ his glory, that’s all.” She tossed the pillow from her face, aiming in the direction from which he had spoken. The instant she let it fly she realized she could hit any manner of breakable objects around the room and her eyes flew open in just enough time to see soft rectangle collide with his back.

Now wearing the tunic he’d had on the night before, Gideon bent to pick up the pillow from where it landed at his feet. Though the cloth hung long, it rode up the minute he doubled over, flashing the round curves of his backside.

Alice laughed out another cry of surprise and turned away to stare at the fireplace. The darkness set into the wall was much safer to look at, or at least she hoped it would be. “You know it wasn’t your naked _chest_ that surprised me, right? I mean, I _was_ actually touching that part without the blankets between us.”

“Closest thing at hand,” Gideon countered before tossing the pillow back at her, hitting her squarely in the head. There was humor in his words now, Alice could easily sense the smile that she couldn’t see. “My last two years at the academy, I lived alone, so it has been a while since I had a roommate. Before that, my family was… Well, I guess that’s a little complicated. I’ll try to work on reducing my casual nudity for next time.”

The mention of Gideon’s family in the same context as casual nudity made Alice’s mind spin. Rumplestiltskin striding around the house without a care in the world for who saw him didn’t _quite_ match up with the man she knew or the picture of perfection everyone in town seemed to hold him to. Trying to imagine such a thing, her eyes roamed the room, but her mind failed to cooperate with her plans, latching on to something else Gideon had said instead. He’d used the words “next time” in his sentence and this made Alice start with excitement.”Next time?” Propping herself up on her elbows, she stared across the room at him. “ You mean there’s actually going to _be_ a next time? You’ll let me stay again?”

The back of Gideon’s shoulders shrugged before he pulled up his pants. “Figure of speech.” That blank tone was back again and she couldn’t tell if it was sadness consuming him or just his overall personality that made him sound so bored all the time.

“Oh.” Disappointment washed over her then, and Alice sank back into the mattress to stare at the ceiling.

“Well, I mean, it doesn’t _have_ to be just something we say to each other.” Those words and more came to her, but she didn’t process them until Gideon’s face suddenly blocked her view of the room’s crown molding. “You’re married. I expect you to want to be with your wife.”

“Yeah. Well don’t,” Alice huffed as she pushed him out of her space and rose from the bed, smoothing the wrinkles from her clothing once she was on her feet. “Stop assuming you know everything about me. Yes, I’m married, but that doesn’t mean my wife and I are clueless about what you are going through. You haven’t seen your mum in… however long it’s been… Rumplestiltskin always made it seem like an eternity… and you _just_ lost your papa. I’m not leaving you here alone until you’re ready, and after this morning I’d say you’re _far_ from ready.”

The only response she got was a bright smile.

Alice thrust her hands to her hips and tipped her head at him. “What?”

“I’m just realizing that having a sister is going to be nice,” Gideon told her, his voice as gentle as a fluffy bunny. Assuming voices could be bunnies, which seemed almost possible to Alice at this point.

She shook her head in disbelief, but smiled back as they headed down the stairs to the breakfast she’d made up from the groceries Robin delivered. “So which one of us is older, then?”

“With me, time is a sort of relative thing. I guess I’m a year or two younger than Robin, but with all of the temporal magic and differences in realm time, exact ages quickly get blurry.” Once they were in the kitchen Gideon proceeded to move one of the two place settings Alice had left out, shifting it around the table by one chair. When Alice she him a quizzical look, he waved a hand at now empty place. “My brother was there in my dream. It feels… I don’t know if I could…”

“Got it.” Alice nodded sharply once to prevent him from struggling further with his emotions, then pointed at the chair she’d been left with. “This one okay?”

“Fine.” Gideon spoke the word through a sip of coffee that was undoubtedly cold by now.

Alice wrinkled her nose. “You don’t want fresh?”

He shrugged. “I’m used to it. When I was studying I would often forget I had my drink beside me. I’ve had cold coffee or tea and warm milk more often than you’d probably care to make a guess at.”

“Then I’m glad I hard boiled the eggs.” She snatched a box of corn flakes from the counter and dropped it into the center of the table beside a plates of very dry toast, eggs, and oranges. Once she retrieved the milk from the refrigerator, she sat and tipped her head at him. “So which is it?”

Gideon blinked at her and set the mug down. “Pardon?”

“Older. Which one of is is going to be older?” Alice went to work spreading the now soft butter on her bread and listened to the knife scrape against the hard surface. It was possible they would need to go to Granny’s, she realized before taking a bite into the rock-like square and dropping it back to the plate. Talking around a mouthful that was a little hard to swallow, she shrugged. “I mean, calling ourselves twins would be a bit of a stretch.”

Across from her, Gideon filled his bowl with cereal, poured the milk, and stared into the depths of the dish as if waiting for the answer to emerge as a result of the mixture. “Why don’t we say that since I’m tallest, I’m the _big_ brother and you’re the _little_ sister.” When he looked up at her again, his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Practical and truthful,” she told him a certainty that she felt to her very core. “It’s perfect”

* * *

The walk to main street was much longer than in his dream, but it gave Gideon time to properly take in his surroundings. He loved looking at all of the houses and buildings as Alice walked beside him, hanging on his arm like a happy schoolgirl being escorted on her first date. As they strolled along, stories were told about who lived where and what everyone did for a living, but Gideon let them wash over his head. There were far too many and the rapid fire rate in which they flew at him made each tale impossible to follow. What he noticed most in their wandering were the sideways glances and odd stares they began to receive as they approached the busier parts of town. A keen eye could catch the flickers of fear and uncertainty that came with the wide eyed expressions of recognition and Gideon’s tender heart absorbed each, tucking them away in a sort of mental ballot box that quickly filled with the reasons he didn’t quite belong.

“Right, so here we are,” Alice said at last. Dropping Gideon’s arm to gesture at the road ahead of them. “Main Street, Storybrooke.”

In the early morning the area was almost deserted, roads and sidewalks empty of all but a few shop owners who were preparing to open for business. Gideon’s eyes immediately moved to the clock tower and focused on a midpoint between the library beneath it and the tiny shop across the road. “I wasn’t sure which one I should open first,” he muttered as he stepped from the curb and into the street, ignoring all responsibility as a pedestrian in favor of getting a better balance of the two destinations he faced. 

Beside him, Alice reached out to catch his sleeve, but missed. Gideon ignored the tug at the cloth and strode forward, down the exact center of the road, eyes focused at some speck that only his subconscious could determine. He felt like a wind up toy, propelled forward by his inner workings, set in motion by the sheer will of someone who needed him to move on. Some of the people walking through town ignored him as if pedestrians in the middle of Main Street were an everyday occurrence, but others turned to stare. From the corner of his vision, Gideon caught sight of a man and a young woman walking side by side, blinking at him in surprise as they passed on the sidewalk, the man so distracted by Gideon’s presence that his companion had to redirect his path to prevent him from walking into a pole.

“They don’t want me here,” Gideon whispered when he reached the place he had been in his dream.

Alice scoffed. “They don’t know if they want you or not. You’re new, that’s all. New people don’t happen around here unless a curse makes them happen.”

“I’m ‘happening’ now, am I?” Gideon laughed. “Well, at lest I know where I stand with everyone.”

“Right now you are standing in the middle of the road.” The voice of the Good Queen called out from beside one of the parked cars at his left. “Might you be convinced to choose a side before the sheriff gets a involved?” 

Gideon turned to face her and nodded politely before striding to her. “My apologies, Your Majesty. I don’t generally make a habit of such things, but I’ve had some trouble separating dreams from reality this morning. It won’t happen again.”

“Street walking happens a lot more often here than one would think, actually,” the woman added with a smile. “I was teasing. I doubt anyone would bat an eyelash over it. At least not until traffic picks up, anyway.”

“With respect, it seems that I’ve caused plenty of eyelashes to flutter in distress this morning.” Memories of every worried glance and startled gaze played in front of Gideon’s vision. He felt his mouth form a line of concern and lifted his gaze upward to the the sign that beckoned him forward.

_Mr. Gold_

There were other words there, of course, properly labeling the store itself, but the biggest, boldest letters seemed to drift forward as he stared at them. For a moment Gideon had to check to be certain that they weren’t actually reaching out toward him, begging to be caressed. He imagined tiny barbs hidden somewhere in the lettering, wishing each one would find some way to stick to him, cling to his very being and never let go, become a part of him in a way that this place simply wasn’t. Eventually a now familiar hand pressed to his arm, squeezing a confession from him. “I’ve always just been Gideon.”

“Well you’re _definitely_ not a girl,” Alice answered with such certainty that Queen Regina was forced to do a double take, eyebrows raised. “So the ‘mister’ part is right, and you’re still a Gold, so… It fits?”

“Mister Gold was my papa. I don’t know that I could ever live up to that title.” Suddenly the weight of the sign felt very real to Gideon, who found himself suddenly waiting for the entire thing to drop upon him in any moment, letters and all. The idea made him take a step backwards, pushing him to return to the road.”

“We can certainly have it changed for you,” the Good Queen assured him. “It can read whatever you’d like.”

Gideon shook his head. “No. I don’t think I can do that.” He swallowed hard and finally forced his eyes to meet hers. “But I thank you for the offer.”

She gave a small yet graceful bow and lifted her hand in the direction of the building’s blue exterior. A ripple in the air around it followed by the gentle push of wind signified the lifting of a protection spell before she nodded sharply. “All yours. I just did the same for the library before you arrived. If you need anything, I’d like for you to come directly to me. You’re Henry’s uncle and that makes us family... In whatever strange and twisted tree our records currently reside in.”

“Gets better,” Alice piped in. Both of her arms twined themselves around Gideon’s and squeezed squeezed tightly, something he was beginning to expect she did often. “We just decided I’m his little sister, so I’m not only your niece’s wife, but I’m your…” She paused for a moment and gazed skyward. “What would I be again?”

“A mess,” Gideon told her frankly before flashing a genuine smile down at her.

“You can say that again,” Queen Regina muttered before quickly adding, “I mean your place in the new family tree, not you, of course.”

“Never would have thought it,” Alice beamed.

Taking in a long breath, the Good Queen gestured at the shop door a final time. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” There was something in her stance, in the sag of her shoulders, that pulled Gideon’s attention to her. She seemed suddenly as lonely as he felt and he shook his head at her.

“I’d be happy to invite you in. I’m sure as Queen of All Realms you have every right to inspect the property.”

Though she allowed a grateful smile to consume her features, the woman shook her head against it. “No, this space belongs to your family. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Gideon turned to her then, head tipped to the side as curiosity washed over him, followed by a wave of realization. “This building has been a part of the town’s history for many years. Without trying to put my father on a pedestal, it is safe enough to say that it is as central a location as the library.” He gestured at his mother’s building as proof of that fact before turning back to his small audience of two. “And from the stories my parents told me, it was a busy place when others needed it to be. Having it stand empty for so long must have taken a toll on people who had some relationship with my father, whichever way that relationship ran. Yourself, the King, the rest of our family… Even some of my mother’s friends most likely walked past and were reminded of their absence by the stillness within. The healing to be done is as much yours as it is mine.”

“Thank you.” The Good Queen lowered her head in respect, but then narrowed her eyes at him when her gaze lifted. “But _never_ compare the loss of your parents to the town’s loss of two residents. Rumplestiltskin and Belle were always your family before they were anything else, and they made certain all of us knew that, even after the second time you were returned to them.”

“Don’t think I’ll ever get my head around that one,” Alice offered quickly, ending the talk of death and return. Gideon was beginning to realize just how perceptive the woman was and grew increasingly grateful for her abilities as every moment rolled on.

“I insist,” Gideon begged them both as he moved to put the key into the door. Untouched by time due to the preservation spell, the lock clicked and the knob turned easily in his hand, granting him entry. Quickly he turned his back on the darkness within, though he nodded toward it as a form of invitation. “I’d welcome the company.”

Regina, Good Queen of all the realms, tipped her head in a regal gesture of acquiescence. “Then I accept.”

* * *

The inside of the shop was as dark as Regina remembered and she found herself staring at the lights, wondering if they were only decorative. There had been nights that she had walked past and a yellow glow poured out of the windows and onto the pavement at her feet, but she couldn’t ever remember the place being bright inside. Even as empty as the shop was, entering into the shadows of it sent tingles of memory through her brain, mimicking the sensation of fingernails trailing along her scalp. It was eerie yet it still felt like coming home.

She was the only one who looked to the curtain when the bell chimed as the door closed behind them. Undisturbed, the fabric broke a part of her heart with its stillness, a part that she had once thought healed. Her mentor, a man she eventually thought of as a kind of friend, would never again look up from his work and complain about an intrusion when the shop’s sign read “closed.” The woman he loved would never peek out from behind the curtain to welcome their visitor with a bright smile and the spark of joy in her eyes, no matter what past she shared with them.

 _You don’t know what you have until it is gone,_ Regina thought to herself. Her breath caught in her chest and she was suddenly very aware that disturbing her memories had been a very big mistake.

“No,” Gideon said as easily as if he had read her mind. “In order for Storybrooke to heal, the shop must open. As will the library.”

Regina opened her eyes to see the man only a few feet away from her, staring down with the perfect calm of his father and the pure kindness of his mother. “I wasn’t-”

“I’ve caught myself in the mirror enough times recently to recognize that look, Your Majesty. Whatever happened here, the memories others hold up against the image of these buildings, good or bad, won’t be released until there is life inside of them again. Having walked from the house, I can see that I am not the only one who needs to let go of what I cling to. There is healing that needs to be done here and I know I am the only one who can facilitate it.”

Alice appeared out of nowhere, hand snatching Gideon’s, fingers twining with his. She glanced down as she squeezed, then leaned into his side. “Hopefully you need a helper?”

Warmth radiated from Gideon’s smile. He nodded once. “I could probably use it in the beginning, as I get things sorted.”

“Do you have any idea what you will do with the space?” Startled by her own question, Regina pulled her head back as if avoiding a blow to the face. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“It came from this being advertised as a pawnshop when there is very little inside but empty shelving.” Gideon almost giggled. “I might have studied magic at the academy, but I have seem my father do repairs on many things from clothing and watches to random items around the houses we rented or built. I wouldn’t say he groomed me to take his place, but I can see that he intended to give me something to do in this shop until I found my way.”

“Your papa was always a smart man,” Alice told him, leaning closer, if getting closer were even possible.

Gideon seemed to gain life from her proximity and his smile broadened. “He was. As was my mother. I might know more about running the library than keeping this shop in business, but I think I could have a fair go at it. I _will_ need stock, of course,” he mused as he looked around.

“Your father insisted on returning everything that didn’t belong to him before you all left town. He didn’t want the weight of his past deeds to anchor him, either to this store or this town… or anywhere, I suppose.” She should have seen it when he put in the request, should have known what he was doing from the beginning. Rumplestiltskin never intended to return here and though he’d claimed emptying the shop was for the benefit of the people who owned the items he held, Regina now realized he had done what needed to be done for Gideon’s sake as well. “I’ll ask around. Spread the word that the shop is back in business.”

“As a plain, simple pawnshop,” Gideon reminded her quickly.

Regina bowed her head then raised it to give him as warm a smile as she could manage through the pang of emptiness in her heart. “I will personally see to the spreading of that reputation myself.”

“Then I thank you, Your Majesty,” the shop’s new owner lowered his head in kind. “And do come in whenever you see fit… Please.”

Using her exit to cover her smile, Regina left the shop and lifted her face to the sun’s morning rays. She wondered if Rumple was in a place where he could look down on them and knew that if he was, that self-satisfied grin would be plastered on his face. “Guess that little deal we made continues on to the next generation.” The lie, spoken so easily, drifted away on the breeze as she mentally added a visit to the pawnshop to her morning routine.


	6. Chapter 6

Dwarves didn’t generally suffer from sunburn, since their very nature kept them sheltered from the elements, but Grumpy was beginning to feel the sharp prickle of it on his nose and cheeks. He hadn’t moved in hours and though his body had otherwise proven surprisingly resilient, his face was beginning to complain. Still, the idea of leaving his curbside stakeout didn’t really come to his mind. The shade would be on his side of the street soon, he reminded himself. He could hold out until then.

“Stalking doesn’t become you, Leroy,” David told him as he walked to the corner where the dwarf stood. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he huffed back, arms folded across his chest. 

David gave a shrug. “Well if nothing is going on, why are you standing on a street corner across from Gideon’s shop, staring at the door? You’ve been here since eight this morning. Last night you seemed ecstatic that Gideon returned and now you seem…”

Grumpy shot David a narrow-eyed look of annoyance, already reading assumptions into the mans’ words without much effort. “Worried? Curious?” He avoided any of the options that he knew the king would have put forward, just to force him to choose one of his own.

“I was going to go with ‘fixated,’ actually,” David announced easily as he mirrored Grumpy’s cross-armed stance.

Anger rose up in Grumpy before he could stop it. “You think I’m standing here because I’m _afraid_ of him? I’m here because I’m afraid of what everyone else is going to do _to_ him.”

Shock and uncertainty played across David’s face at the announcement, making him look as if he’d just been slapped across his cheek. “I’m not sure what you mean. Gideon’s lived here before. He’s come home, returned to his extended family, and reclaimed what rightfully belongs to him. I don’t see any harm in any of that, nor do I see why anyone in Storybrooke or the United Realms would come to cause him trouble.”

“Are you trying to remind me that everyone left him alone as a baby, growing up in his parents’ loving arms, or are you telling me a story about how everyone treated him the time he lived here as the bar-owning minion of the Black Fairy?” Grumpy stepped closer to the king, ignoring the man’s personal space, a boundary he only pressed because of their familiarity. As far as he was concerned, Snow was family, which made David an in law, titles he wouldn’t have thought to adopt in the Enchanted Forest, but had come to claim as a part of his cursed self many years ago.

David’s mouth opened as if he intended to answer, but shut again with resignation. “I guess I see your point.” Grumpy hoped he did, David might not ever have admitted it openly, but he shared a form of friendship with the Dark One, a bond of paternal experiences that the dwarf had seen from a distance at gatherings and parties. The dwarf had also noticed how upset David was when the Golds left town for good. To deny this protection of Gideon was undoubtedly denying his friend the courtesy of watching over his son.

“I owe Belle my happiness,” Grumpy reminded David, trying not to sound desperate as he spoke. “I need to make sure her son has his.”

“All right,” the king acknowledged at last, dropping his arms to his sides with a thump. “So what have you learned so far?”

“Well he’s not getting any business. Regina went in when he opened up, and he had Alice with him, but so far no one else has even looked inside. It’s like he isn’t in there at all.”

A smile twitched on David’s lips. “Isn’t that what you wanted? For him to be left in peace, so he could find his happiness?”

Grumpy turned a sad expression up at his friend. “If _you_ came back after everyone in your family was gone, would _you_ be happy that the people who claim to care about you haven’t even popped in to say hello?”

As one, they both turned to face the shop’s door, but neither of them made a move to cross the invisible barrier that was keeping them at a distance. Grumpy could only assume that memories of the final battle and Emma’s struggle with the man hidden behind that same door were keeping David glued in place as much as they were preventing _him_ from easily strolling in and wishing Belle’s son a pleasant afternoon.

“I know he’s good,” the dwarf whispered. “So why can’t I go in there?”

“Memories can be a horrible monster to face,” David answered with a sigh. “Even when the monster we think we see was never there to begin with.”

* * *

Hours of puttering around an empty store hadn’t made Gideon feel much better about his time in Storybrooke. Though Alice’s cheerful personality kept him in higher hopes for the future, there were times when she was so obviously fishing for things to be hopeful about that he wanted to spin around and tell her to leave him. He hadn’t though. As frustrating as those few moments were, the weight of them against the bright happiness she brought to his heart wasn’t anything in comparison.

“I want you to stay on,” Gideon found himself announcing while Alice was rambling about countries on a large globe that was standing by one of the displays.

She didn’t register his words at first, finger poking at one of the shapes. “Must be an old one if it has Persia on here. Don’t really know how I know that, since it isn’t-” Alice’s mouth dropped open and she looked up at Gideon, body still bent over, finger still poking the sphere’s smooth surface. The stance was so comical, it took everything inside of Gideon not to laugh. “Did you just say…?”

Gideon nodded. “I want you to stay on with me. The shop was always a family business and-” Any other words that would have come from him were thrust out in one forceful “oof” as Alice quite literally pounced on him.

“Of course I’ll stay! I’d been hoping that, actually. Spending the day together, working side by side… You’ll have to teach me about a lot of things, but I learn quickly.” Alice released him only when the rush of her words ended with her own need to take in breath. 

“I can show you what I know, but I expect you are selling yourself a little short.” With a shrug, Gideon took in the empty shelves and the places where a few items sat out for display. “A lot of this we’ll be learning together, I think.”

Alice moved over to the globe again and spun it. “Well for starters, I think we should focus on what we know. Your papa had cursed memories about all of this stuff. He knew how to fix it and date it and paint it and… whatever else gets done to it because of that. And of course he had all of the things that he gave away again. The magical trinkets and all that stuff from the Enchanted Forest. We know more about our own realms than anything from this world. Maybe we should focus on that.”

“I don’t want to deal in magic,” Gideon told her. “I did wonder that if I’m to run the library as well, should I start with offering to restore old parchments or bound books?”

This made his newly appointed little sister squeal with glee. “Oooh! That’s a great idea. We can have the library and the restoration building. We could even transcribe parchments into book form, couldn’t we?”

“Restoring books and _making_ them are two very different things,” Gideon told her with a shake of his head. “I’d have to learn, but I’m sure it would be possible in time.”

The bell above the shop door chimed, ending their discussion. A lean man of medium height entered, wearing the clothes of another realm. They were casual, but had a bit of flair to them which made Gideon suspect him to be a man of at least some means. Gideon nodded and the customer tipped his head sharply, then wandered the room, looking at seemingly random objects with an overly critical eye. He certainly had a way about him that screamed royalty, but there was nothing familiar about the man’s face, nothing that could place him into any of the stories that Gideon had grown up hearing from his parents.

“Hello,” Alice half sang as she scooted up to their first patron. “I’m not sure how open we are yet, but if there is something you need, we can try to help you.”

“My name is Nicolas,” the man told her, though he stared at Gideon. There was an accent in his words and his name was made unique because of it. Gideon tried to place the sound, something between his mother’s voice and what he remembered from their many visits to France. “I wanted to know what you intended with this building. It claims to be a pawn shop and yet…”

Gideon’s heart sank as the stranger gestured at the empty shelves and cases, but he tried to put up a cheerful front against one more silent accusation that he didn’t quite belong. “It is true my father ran it as a pawn shop. I am told that before we left he returned every item that didn’t belong to him, which unfortunately leaves me with a diminished inventory, but not diminished ideas. I can, most certainly, continue operating once I am a little more settled.”

“You intend to stay, then?” The stranger’s eyes narrowed. “In town?”

“My family’s house is in town, yes. It wouldn’t occur to me to live anywhere else as long as I am here.” Gideon left the counter and moved to stand beside Nicolas, hoping that his concern over this probing didn’t show. “Was there something you needed today? I’m afraid I hadn’t quite planned on opening so soon after my arrival. I was really only in to take inventory and see what cleaning would need to be done, but I would be willing to help you find what you came for, if I have it.”

Nicolas ignored this kindness and tipped his head to the side in curiosity. “What qualifications do you have to run a store such as this? Do you have experience in antiquities?”

From the corner of his eyes, Gideon caught Alice moving closer still. He could practically feel her desire to take his arm, but was grateful that she showed some restraint. Back stiffening to his full height, Gideon looked down at their guest with a hardened expression. “I have my studies as well as _life_ experiences that are unmatched among others here,” he said carefully. “And I assure you that I will learn what I can on subjects I am unfamiliar with. If your concern over my qualifications is an implication that I am here to take advantage of others, you can rest assured that if there is a task put to me that I am _incapable_ of, I will happily refer that customer to someone more suited to the work they need done.”

“In other words,” the man answered with arrogance, “you have yet to decide what your task here will be.”

“We were just talking about offering literary restoration services to begin with,” Alice piped up. It felt as if she were snapping at the man, even though she seemed as cheerful as every other time she’d spoken with Gideon thus far. “Along with continuing the pawn shop as it was designed to be run. But as my brother said, we haven’t really had time to make plans just yet. Why don’t you come back once the store is properly opened. I’m sure we will be able to suit your needs then.”

Deftly she took Nicolas by the arm, blending her kindness with the posture of playful flirtation, and escorted him to the exit. “We’ll be sure to let the public know when we are open for business,” she told him smoothly before shutting the door, and making a point to check that the sign was flipped to closed. After a single wave, she turned the lock and dropped the shade over the glass panes, blocking him from her immediate view before turning back to Gideon with a sigh.

Gideon felt his mouth hanging open, but somehow couldn’t manage to snap it shut again. He tried to speak, but managed only sputters of “how” and “when” which were outrageously unhelpful and caused Alice to break out into a huge grin.

She pointed a finger in his direction and narrowed her eyes in a scolding expression. “Just because I like girls doesn’t mean I don’t know how to handle men like those.” She swung the finger at the now sealed entrance and tipped her chin up at the man’s invisible wake. “Was it starting to feel creepy to you? I thought it was a little creepy.”

“He was somewhat nosy,” Gideon agreed. “Perhaps it was just because he’d heard of my reputation before this.”

Alice glared at him. “I wish you’d stop doing that. What did you do here before you were a baby? Other than be born?”

Gideon sighed and moved to lock up the last of the cabinets they had filled with what random items were left in the building. “I don’t know. My father would never tell me.”

“Because he didn’t want you thinking about it when you came here. You’re _not_ that man any more, Gideon. There are _plenty_ of people here that look exactly like someone else, but they _aren’t_ the same person as that someone else. If everyone here can see the difference between-” She swallowed down whatever she was about to say and then tried again with an angry flap of one hand to her side. “The two Reginas! If they can tell the difference between them, then they can recognize the difference in _you_ too.” Alice’s hand was on his back now, settled where it could reach, warm and inviting. It made Gideon smile.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “I’ll probably need you to remind me of that.”

“Every chance I get,” Alice told him. “You’ll be sick of hearing it by Tuesday.”

Gideon laughed then and nodded at the window, where the late afternoon light was quickly fading. “It’ll be dark soon, guess we should head out.”

“Let me call Robin,” Alice told him. “Maybe she’ll know the man who came in here. She lived here longer than either of us. She can come over for dinner and we can talk about…” In a rush to get the gossip, she dashed behind the curtain, where her phone had been left on the work desk, her words drifting away with her. Soon the melodic tones of a number being entered drifted past the cloth barrier and Gideon knew the moment was right to make his escape.

* * *

“Then you knot the yarn around the thread, one at a time.” As she walked with her father back to their car, Grace made several motions with her hands that Jefferson couldn’t at all follow, but he nodded as if he understood. “The man Princess Jasmine brought in to show us said that I was the best carpet weaver in the class, but I told him that was only because we used to have a regular loom in the Enchanted Forest and sometimes you let me work on it.”

“It sounds like something you want to try. I can go to the Agrabah palace tomorrow while you are in school, maybe find someone who could take you on as an apprentice, if you wanted.” Jefferson was barely able to get the final words out before Grace’s arms were thrust around him and squeezing the life from his chest. He closed his eyes to try and absorb the feeling, reveling in the warmth of her, the proximity of her, the realness of her. 

After so many years of being cursed to remain the young, curious girl from the Enchanted Forest, time had moved too quickly once said curse was broken. Grace was a young woman now, as smart and as beautiful as her mother had been, and ready to leave home in just under two years’ time. Any of the new Universities and Academies that had popped up as a part of the United Realms would be lucky to have her, but Jefferson refused to think of sending her away. Encouraging an apprenticeship was the best thing he could think of to delay any decision she might make and it had fallen right in his lap.

It wasn’t that he _wanted_ her to avoid an education, in fact, the thought of apprenticing instead brought its own set of worries to Jefferson’s mind. Was he denying her success by keeping her so close? Would it limit the number of paths she could take toward her own adult life? Their humble lives together in the forest shouldn’t be what he based her future on, not now that there were so many options before her, and yet she seemed to focus on crafts and hands-on activities like gardening over discussions of the upcoming years of schooling. Standing on the sidewalk, _enjoying_ the sensation of being squeezed to death, Jefferson couldn’t help but wonder if he was to blame for her recent dithering.

Behind them, the faint chime of a shop’s bell could be heard, followed by the rapid, heavy steps of someone on the run. Worried there was trouble, Jefferson instantly reached for the phone in his pocket, even as he pushed Grace away to position himself between her and the commotion, but when he spun on the guilty party, his whole body seemed to turn to stone, from his toes to his rapidly beating heart.

He had seen Gideon Gold in the street earlier that morning, while walking Grace to school. The familiar sight of the grown man striding down Main Street had sent his head in such a spin that his daughter had needed to guide him away from obstacles in his path. Jefferson hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the man, as tall as he remembered, but lighter somehow, unburdened by the troubles of his previous life here, even in his obvious sadness. Now that light was gone, replaced with a form of panic that Jefferson knew well. Gideon was overwhelmed and desperate for an escape from whatever frustrations had piled up on him in the day.

Lowering the arm he’d raised protectively in front of Grace, Jefferson sighed. “We’d better make sure he’s okay.”

“Gideon!” She called out after the swiftly vanishing form, but luckily wasn’t heard.

That luck surprised Jefferson, not in how it affected his friend’s son, but in how _he_ was glad of how the luck had turned. As if struck by lightning, the flash of realization tingled at the top of Jefferson’s brain and flashed brightly in front of his eyes. He didn’t _want_ the man to turn around, didn’t want Gideon to see him or even know he existed. The knowledge made him feel as if he were betraying his best friend, yet no matter how hard he tried to force words to come from his lips, he couldn’t make himself cry out in any way that would call that friend’s son to his side.

“We’ll just follow him,” Jefferson said at last, taking Grace’s hand and giving it a fatherly pat before letting go. “Make sure he’s all right and not… lost or something.”

Grace looked up the street at the retreating shop owner and then back at her father again and almost giggled. “Why does he surprise you? Did you think he would come back as a baby again?” The words were lighthearted, a tease meant to make him smile, but Jefferson’s mouth remained in a grim line, which planted worry into her voice when she next spoke. “Papa? What is it?”

“Nothing, my Grace.” Shaking his head to clear it, Jefferson reminded himself to give her one of his famously boyish grins, but he could tell she wasn’t fooled.

“Come on,” she told him easily, catching his sleeve and tugging it the way she would have as a child. “You wanted to follow him. To make sure he was okay.”

Nodding, he let himself be pulled along at first, only moving of his own free will once Gideon was practically out of sight. Side by side Jefferson and his daughter hurried behind, the wind in their hair as they rushed forward. It almost felt like old times, dodging trees in the woods, rushing to find the perfect hiding spot for hide and seek. The difference now was that the person he was after didn’t seem to want to be found.

At the same time that Jefferson realized he was severely out of shape, Gideon slowed to a jog and then a fast walk. The man ahead of them was now striding confidently toward the park, glancing up at the sky now and then as if trying to judge the time by the setting of the sun. “Well,” Jefferson huffed out at Grace as they stopped at the park’s edge. “I guess he just… needed to get away from it all.” He lifted a hand to gesture at the entrance, then let his arm fall to his side with a thump so loud that he worried they would get caught.

Gideon didn’t turn around or even flinch, he simply moved down one of the paths toward the clearing by the pond, then stretched out on the grass, arms behind his head.

“He’s stargazing!” The glee in Grace’s voice was unmistakable. “Except I didn’t think that was something you had to hurry to do.”

Jefferson shrugged. “Maybe there is a comet or something else you can only see at a certain time.”

“Maybe.” Grace hummed with thought, then snapped her fingers. “Maybe he’s waiting for his friends. People at school were talking about how Mister Gold’s son flew here on the back of a demon.”

So it had started already. Jefferson seethed. He could feel the blood begin to boil under his skin and his vision turned red from the heat of it. “They’re not going to leave him alone,” he snarled at no one in particular. Or maybe he was growling at the whole town, he couldn’t really be sure.

“We can help him, can’t we?” Grace blinked over at him in surprise.

Jefferson wanted to say no, wanted to tell her that only Regina could truly whittle away at whatever problems were coming up in Gideon’s personal life, but he stopped short of saying it. Instead he spun to face his daughter and captured her by the shoulders to stare intently into her eyes. “Yes,” he said firmly. “The next time you hear anyone at school talking about magic or demons or anything else about Gideon that doesn’t make sense, you tell them you don’t agree. You remind them that his mother was a sweet woman who wouldn’t hurt a fly and that his father was a _savior_. If it weren’t for Rumplestiltskin _none_ of them would be in that school building. If it weren’t for Gideon’s brother, everyone would have been trapped in the same day forever. If it wasn’t-”

“Papa,” Grace cut in, her voice wavering as if she were trying not to laugh. “I think you’re stretching the story a little bit.”

“Baelfire helped make Henry, right?” Jefferson released her with a shrug, then turned away from the park to continue their journey home.

“It’s probably better to say he saved all of Storybrooke from whatever Zelena was trying to do, back when she was still wicked,” Grace reminded him.

Jefferson poked a finger her way. “Good point. Tell _that_ story instead.” Then he gave her a wink, just for fun.

They laughed at each other on the way back to the car, surprised to find that the impromptu chase actually brought them closer to the vehicle rather than taking them away from it. Calling the proximity a small mercy, Jefferson reached forward to unlock the door, but was jostled from behind, the thump of a hurried someone knocking the keys from his hands.

“Oh, sorry. So sorry,” a familiar voice rasped out as a woman’s hand snatched up the keys and thrust them through the air at him. “I’m trying to find someone. Maybe you’ve-”

“Gideon,” Jefferson answered before Alice could go onto one of her rambling explanations. He nodded in the direction of the park and flashed her a smile that he hoped would be convincingly innocent. “Stargazing by the pond.”

“Perfect. Thanks.” And with that single burst of gratitude, Alice was gone.

* * *

When the large double doors of the castle’s throne room creaked open, Maurice stopped his pacing and spun to send a glare down the entryway. The man that entered was surrounded by the glow of a setting sun that peeked through the distant window and Maurice wondered if he would ever adjust to the new, bastardized view from any of the windows of his former home. Yes, the curse had set the castle against a mountain, but the mound was smaller and rounder than what he was used to, and the conglomerate of towers belonging to the other castles thrust down against his own territory blocked what he could normally have seen of the water beyond. Typically he ignored it, but today was not a typical day.

“Well? What news have you heard?” He snapped at the visitor. “It couldn’t have taken you all day.”

“In fact it did,” the man answered coolly. “There was a dwarf hovering outside until King David turned him away in the mid afternoon. It was, quite frankly, impossible to enter unnoticed until he was gone.”

Maurice huffed a breath of resignation. “Meddlesome man. I expect he’s the one who keeps going on about my daughter’s kindness to him. Now he’s taken to protecting my grandson.” Another long breath followed, but releasing the air didn’t release the pressure he felt inside. Shouting would though, so that is exactly what he did next. “Fine! What did you discover, then?”

“The boy acknowledges his parents’ property as his own and seems intent to remain with it.” The word ‘boy’ was a sneer, curling the man’s lip as if it were something vile that his mouth simply couldn’t touch. “He has Alice of the other Wonderland with him. It seems that he has adopted her as his sister and it sounded as if they intend to work together. I’m afraid that I couldn’t glean more than that, she intervened and escorted me from the shop before I could discuss anything further. There was no time to work out why he has chosen not to visit you or why he arrived… alone.”

The mission was half of a success, then. Maurice sighed and flicked his hand at the double doors. “Very well, Nicolas. Return to your regular duties. I won’t have need of you for such a visit again. I can’t have him getting suspicious.”

“Of course.” Nicolas gave a low bow and sauntered away, leaving only the echo of his boot heels in his place.

Frustrated and angry, Maurice paced back to his throne and threw himself heavily into the soft red padding. He shut his eyes against the gaps in the information he’d hoped to obtain, and tried to use what he knew to fill them in, but found the task useless. None of it had been what he’d hoped for and he doubted he could make any of it work to his advantage, but at least he knew more now than he had the night before, when the only hope for the future of his people had, quite literally, dropped out of the sky.

* * *

Alice found Gideon by practically trampling him. Well, she wouldn’t have trampled him if he hadn’t tried to move out of her way, but instead of being still, like most stargazers would have done, the man scrambled to his feet, which changed where he’d been all too soon for Alice to make any sort of correction. She collided with him quite solidly and bounced away, landing on her rear end with a jarring thump.

“We really need to stop meeting like this,” Gideon told her through a chuckle as he reached out to pull her to her feet.

“We really need to get you a cell phone. I got done with Robin and- She says hello again, by the way-” Mind whirling around too many stories that needed to be told, Alice tried to settle on the one that she knew would make the most sense. Gideon, patient as always, simply smiled as she stumbled over her words. The grin warmed her and grounded her to a single, necessary statement. “I thought you’d been swept away!”

Another chuckle came from her brother and he shook his head at her, a gentle forgiving motion that brought a spark of life back to his eyes. “I’m not quite used to understanding your stories,” he told her carefully. “But I _am_ grateful for them. Slow down and give me one at a time. You said you were talking with Robin?”

The image of her beautiful wife fizzled before Alice’s eyes and made her smile. It also served to ease her mind into something a little more linear and made her flash a wide grin at her brother. “Hey. How’d you do that?”

“True love,” he answered simply before crossing his arms over his chest in a stance that said everything about how he was waiting for an answer.

“Right. I was talking to Robin. And then I turned around and you were gone. You didn’t tell me anything, just… Poof!” She made a gesture of explosion with her hands, spreading her fingers as she lifted her palms skyward. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to come here? If you left because of me, I-”

“No!” Gideon almost yelped the word and pulled her tightly to his chest. “No, I wasn’t leaving you. I just… I realized it was almost sunset and I needed to get to where I knew I could be found.”

Alice scoffed at him and gave a gentle shove to his chest until she was released. “Now who isn’t making any sense? You wouldn’t have to be found if you’d stayed in the shop.”

In that moment there was a great rush of air that swirled her hair and mixed up the chatter of invisible men that seemed to come from everywhere around her. Alice turned one way, then another until Gideon’s firm hand angled her shoulder into a position where she could quite clearly see the forms of two strange creatures landing in front of her.

“Alice, this is Broadway and Lexington.” Gideon made a cheerful introduction, lifting a hand to indicate first the larger, bluish creature and then the smaller, olive colored one. “They brought me from New York. Guys, this is Alice. She’s my rookery sister.”

“I’m your what?” Alice blinked up at Gideon with surprise.

“That’s what Gargoyles call children raised by the same adults,” he explained.

Alice turned the title around in her head for a while before a massive grin spread so quickly across her face that she felt it was almost split in two. “Oh, I like that. Gargoyles make a lot of sense, then.” She felt she would chatter on about her relationship with Gideon, but the heavy feeling in the air began to press on her and she found her head swiveling from one of them to the next until her gaze finally landed on Gideon. “No,” she whined. “You _just_ told me you weren’t leaving me.”

“I’m not,” Gideon insisted, taking her by the shoulders again. “But unless you want to spend all day tomorrow reliving how things went this morning, I _have_ to go back to New York to get my clothes.”

The small creature blinked at them. “What happened this morning?” Alice thought she heard a twinge of jealousy in the question and couldn’t help but smirk.

“Oh, I got to see _everything_ ,” she teased. “Not that I wanted to, but I wasn’t given much of a choice.”

Lexington laughed then. “You wouldn’t think so, but Gideon has a little bit of a wild side. I’ve seen it. It’s kinda cute.” The gargoyle’s tail snaked out and tapped the flesh of Gideon’s backside with its very tip, making him yelp.

“Are the two of you…?” Alice pointed from one to the other. 

The larger gargoyle, the round and well named Broadway, chuckled and aimed a thumb at his smaller companion. “No, he’s got a mate, but we’ve all seen a little more than we needed to.”

Gideon rolled his head back, eyes drifting skyward. “Oh, come on, guys. How is what we wore that night at the pool _any_ different from what you’re wearing now?”

Completely lost in the conversation, Alice’s eyes wandered straight to the loincloths the gargoyles wore as her mind tried to imagine Gideon in anything similar. Pure curiosity got the better of her and the words of the others slipped away until a blue taloned hand waved in front of her. “Hi,” Broadway said kindly before pointing a finger skyward. “I’ve got a mate too, and my face is up here.”

“Sorry,” Allice sputtered. “I’ve got one too. A mate, I mean. Not.. Not a loincloth or… whatever is under it, or…” She sighed as the others all chuckled and then actually turned to stomp her foot at Gideon. “But you _can’t_ go.”

“I have to,” he told her.

“You can come with us,” Lexington offered. “I can carry you.”

This brought such a look of shock and distress to Gideon’s face that Alice felt she absolutely had to refuse, no matter how badly she wanted to see what it was like to fly with them. “No, it’s all right. My wife will be expecting me anyway.” She turned to Gideon and lifted the corners of her mouth up into a smile that she didn’t at all feel. “You promise me you will be back?”

Gideon pulled her close, squeezing her to his chest and breathing in so deeply that she could feel her hair moving with it. “I promise.” They stood like that for a long time before he released her and gave her a playful grin. “Anything you want from the city?”

There was no doubt of what her answer would be and Alice didn’t even have to pause to think about it. The minute the question was asked, two words flew from her lips. “Just you,” she told him with a sad smile before wishing everyone well and turning to let them go. If she stayed to say goodbye, she felt her heart would simply break into pieces. After all of this time waiting for her brother to appear, now he was going away as easily as if nothing in Storybrooke mattered to him.

Suddenly there was a rush of air as something buzzed over her head and Alice looked up to see the two gargoyles, wings spread, with Gideon somehow settled between them.

“Goodbye little sister that I didn’t know I had!” The voice that called down at her was rich and full of laughter. “See you tomorrow night!”

“Tomorrow night?” Alice pondered the announcement to herself, turning over time and distance in her mind, but not really coming up with anything useful. Finally she turned her face up to the sky and shouted up at the disappearing shadows. “You’d better get some _sleep_ before then!”

What came back sounded something like “Sister or mother?” so Alice screamed out, “And you aren’t your father!” Immediately after she said it, she clamped her hand over her mouth, wishing she could retract the words. After the day they had shared together, what she’d come up with as a tease could just as easily have been taken as criticism. She imagined Gideon sad and alone, hurt by her words and never returning again because of them, but after another great rush of wind all she could hear was genuine laughter, the repeat of the promise to see her tomorrow and then Gideon’s sharp yelp of surprise in answer to something Alice couldn’t hear. 

“What do you mean a guy was watching me?”


	7. Chapter 7

“You are going to have to repeat that again,” David told Leroy as he set down the leg of chicken he’d been eating and blinked up at the dwarf in uncertainty. It wasn’t surprising that he and the others had burst into the house. In times of great need Snow’s band of friends treated their home the same as they would a summer castle, which meant that their door was apparently open to everyone when the need arose. It wasn’t how David wanted things to be, but when you married royalty privacy flew straight out the window, even when you were ending your private family meal in your farmhouse nestled into a spot of land _far_ from town.

“I’d like permission to gather old, unwanted items from the community,” the dwarf repeated, looking as humble as possible with his hat in his hands. “Tonight, if possible.”

“Tonight?” Snow frowned at them from where she sat, elbows propped on the table, hands tucked in to each other at her chin. She looked from one of her friends to the other as if taking them in one at a time would help her figure out the puzzle they were presenting her with. “Well that’s a little cryptic and also very sudden. Why do you need it all right away?”

“We can gather them ourselves,” Tom piped in, though he seemed a little reluctant to stand with his brother in this unusual plan. He gestured in the direction of the front door. “It’s just, well, we thought you could help things along, send out a public announcement for people to put things by the curb that they don’t want any more.”

Leroy frowned over at him. “Or things they _do_ want but don’t have time to mend themselves. I’ll gladly pick them up in my truck.”

“We have plenty of charitable organizations that do that sort of work,” Snow reminded them, looking from one to the other.”If you are looking for a way to help some-”

As she spoke, a realization hit David so hard that he snapped his fingers, then slapped his palm down on the table in excitement. Dishes clattered with the force of the impact and everyone around him jumped in alarm. He gave an apologetic grin before pointing an accusatory finger at Leroy. “This is about the shop!” When there was no protest otherwise, David sat back in his chair and beamed. “You’re trying to replenish Gold’s inventory.”

“Gideon’s,” Leroy corrected. “From what I’ve heard he doesn’t use his family name.”

One of the dwarves muttered something about irony, but David didn’t catch much more or who had spoken.

“I appreciate your concern for the residents of Storybrooke, but spying on a newcomer hardly befits anyone who stands at my side.” Snow looked away as she spoke, to help Neal with cutting a piece of meat. She sounded distracted, but David could tell that the task of helping their son _wasn’t_ the distraction. It was a ploy to wriggle her way out of an uncomfortable subject. “Why the sudden rush? Isn’t there anything left from when Rumple was working there?” 

After his talk with Leroy outside the pawn shop, David had gone around and spoken to random citizens who had been residents of the town since the first curse, hoping to get an idea for how everyone felt about Gideon’s return. It seemed that most of the people who were actually glad to have Gideon around were those in his immediate family while everyone else felt uncomfortable with his presence. David couldn’t truly fault them. Twice the son of Belle and Rumplestiltskin had left town as a young child and twice he had returned as a man. Few had been granted the privilege of watching him grow up this second time and the missing years seemed to be stirring up all manner of uncertainties. The rumors of his association with demons and monsters were only feeding the illegitimate concerns.

“Well,” Doc shrugged and looked at the others, unwilling to make the confession that was about to come from his lips.

Leroy rolled his eyes. “We might have taken a look inside the shop,” he confessed. “He and Alice put everything on the shelves from the back room, but there wasn’t much left behind. It’s like a ghost town in there. Not to mention that what’s left is all stuff no one wanted the first time it was offered to them., What’s going to make anyone want it now?”

“The realms are united no,” Snow reminded him. “The population has changed dramatically. Maybe tastes have changed along with it. Perhaps residents of other realms will be interested in what the shop has to offer.”

“But that’s just it. The shop _doesn’t_ have anything to offer,” Leroy grunted. “It’s practically empty. All I want is to make him feel _welcome_ , give him a purpose.”

David raised an eyebrow, cutting to the truth of the matter. “Let the people of Storybrooke see that he’s here to do good?”

“He’s a _Gold_ ,” Snow said softly. “Of course he’s here to do good.”

“We know that because we _know_ Belle and Rumple.” David swallowed the last of his words and closed his eyes against them, heart breaking a little as he realized he had to make the correction. “Knew them… Not everyone has that luxury and I _have_ heard rumors. I don’t know who started them, but I could easily believe that there is a person or group of people who were trying to slander his name before he’d even been here a day. Leroy is right. We wouldn’t have accepted this kind of treatment of Henry on his return, there is no reason to turn a blind eye to it for anyone else, especially Gideon.”

Snow seemed to take this in, head tipping to the side as she thought. “Who would want to speak out against him?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Leroy huffed in a way that clearly mocked those who thought badly of the newest resident. “People have started calling him the spawn of the Dark One again.”

“Well _that_ won’t do,” Snow agreed with finality. “I think it is time to hold a realm-wide meeting, broadcast everywhere. Tomorrow morning. I’ll send out the announcements after dinner.” Her head bobbed sharply at the dwarves. “Feel free to canvass as many neighborhoods from the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke as you can for your collection. Let them know that King David and I are hoping to restock the pawnshop in town as a way of welcoming one of our own back home. Let everyone see their realm stands _with_ the Golds and not against them.”

Leroy beamed the smile of a proud parent and David wondered just how much of this was about Gideon and how much reached back to the dwarf always wanting to be there for Belle. “We’ll get right on it,” he chuckled. “Come on, boys. We’ve got work to do.” 

The group spun quickly around and hurried for the door, but David called back to them. “Guys.” They froze and looked over their shoulders at him, bodies half twisted in ridiculous poses. “Try not to interrupt any more dinners in the process.”

* * *

It was nearly dawn by the time the Gargoyles landed at the top of the Eyrie building in New York and Gideon was exhausted. The last time he’d spent almost a full twenty four hours up and active had been during his time at the academy, when all night study sessions followed by busy days filled with exams, labs, and lectures had been the norm. He supposed adrenaline had kept him going then, along with some pots of decent tea or bad coffee, but without those aids at his disposal all he wanted was to drop to the stones at his feet and sleep until noon.

“Ah, there they are!” The familiar voice of Amp greeted them cheerfully, a welcome surprise, since the deer-like gargoyle made his home near London. 

Despite his fatigue, Gideon turned a beaming smile at him, arms flung wide in greeting. “I didn’t expect to see you here! How is everything?”

“Fine, fine.” The gargoyle spoke into Gideon’s shoulder as they embraced. “And I came to whisk away your friend for some much needed quality time.”

“He means a bunch of gargoyles have gone into mating back home,” Lexington teased. “And he wants _me_ to be a distraction.”

Amp gasped and placed a hand to his chest and put on a grand display of just how offended he should have been at such a remark. “Are you implying that _I_ would _use_ you in such a way?” He then leaned closer to Gideon and whispered as an aside, “Horrible stuff what happens to keep our numbers down over there. I just couldn’t stand to be around it this time.”

“Likely excuse,” Gideon muttered as he nudged the larger gargoyle with his shoulder. “Why don’t you just move here?”

“Thought about it,” Amp whispered back before Lexington’s eyes began to narrow in annoyance of being left out of this discussion.

Gideon quickly shifted back to the harmless teasing that had started it all. “Oh, you’ll “use” him at any chance you get. And I can’t blame you. Those muscles, that tail…” He circled Lexington playfully and eyed the Gargoyle’s backside in appreciation. “Tired as I am, I’d be willing to have a little ‘competition’ for him…”

The mention of the last “competition” the three had had Lexington flushing deeply. “Oh, come on guys. I’m too tired for all this…” He moved to Amp’s side and Gideon watched as the long, olive tail reached up to caress the tops of the stag’s white legs. “What about you, Gideon? I know you’ll sleep today, but what about sunset? Are you going back on your own, or do we get to take you?”

Turning his head to judge the time, Gideon contemplated his options. Technically he could take the more traditional modes of transportation back to Maine, even if he couldn’t get all the way to Storybrooke. He knew the location now and should be able to cross the town line, but being here, with people who loved and accepted him for who he was, felt too wonderful after the long, trying day he’d just left behind him. “I don’t know,” he said sadly. “I don’t want to be a third wheel, but another day or two in New York to gather my things-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Broadway interjected, poking Gideon in the back with such force that he actually stumbled forward, slamming unceremoniously into both Amp and Lexington. “You made a promise to your rookery sister that you were going back. Tomorrow night.”

“Sister, huh?” Amp tipped his head. “Seems we have a lot to catch up on.”

Gideon sighed. “It just doesn’t seem like I belong there. Everything feels right, but then people follow me around or they stare at me or… Here I’m just a man on the street, I’m not Gideon _Gold_.”

“Plenty of colors in the rainbow,” Hudson offered as he slowly moved to his spot on the castle’s ledge. “If ye dunna want them calling you Gold, pick a new one.” His hand brushed over Gideon’s shoulder as he crossed the space. It was meant to be a reassuring pat but felt a little more like the contact meant to support the weight of an old man rather than a friendly and fatherly gesture. The gargoyles were aging, his _real_ friends. Life was happening to them, bringing them joys and sorrows. He wasn’t ready to leave them. He couldn’t.

“It isn’t just that,” Gideon told him sadly. “It’s like they’ve forgotten my parents. Everyone assumes I’m someone I’m not. No one knows me for who I truly am.”

“You didn’t really give them a chance to know you,” Lexington tried to tease. “You were only there for one day.”

Gideon wanted to protest, but Hudson wouldn’t let him. “Did ye not say when you left us that your home was there? One that belonged to your father?” The old gargoyle turned his back on the faint glow in the distance, brow furrowed in concern. “Your father was a great protector. Your mother too. If these people you speak of have forgotten that, would ye not want to carry on that memory for them?”

“I know the life of a gargoyle is about protecting your home,” Gideon told him. “But _this_ is more my home than any building there.”

“Not true,” Lexington pointed out. “I saw how happy that mob was to see you. They wouldn’t leave you alone. And your rookery sister. The two of you seemed so happy together. You have a clan there, even if you don’t see it.”

“You belong _there_ ,” Broadway told him. “With the rest of your family.”

“And if you can’t stay for the whole clan, stay for Alice,” Lexington begged before the sun claimed his body, turning it to stone.

Gideon’s eyes wandered to Amp who had turned just as the others had, tufts of fur making sharp, chiseled spikes. Though he loved his friends and this city, there was no place for him to settle here. When it came to family, he would always be the third wheel and as far as his work could go, there was no way for him to continue what he began at the academy in a place like New York. He stared out beyond the buildings, searching for the distant ripple of water that remained elusive from this part of the castle and wondered if his travels weren’t to blame for his need to keep moving. Was it the people of Storybrooke he feared or the chance that they would truly get to know him? His friends needed to continue their lives and Gideon knew it was time that he found his own. Resting a hand on Lexington’s back, he turned to look out at the wakening city and the bright rays of sunshine that cut between the buildings to land on his face. “For you, Lex, I’ll go.”

* * *

The sun rose on the town of Storybrooke to reveal a bustle of activity. People were gathered in parks and the town hall, filling up every public space they could find in anticipation of the great meeting that was only minutes away. They stared up at portable screens where the live feed would be projected, or chatted excitedly as giant speakers were installed around them which would distribute the words from the castle to all of the people of the realm. Drivers tuned their radios to the public news station and families still in their homes clicked on their televisions in anticipation of the announcement to come. Even the schools were delayed for this momentous event that no one seemed to be able to determine the true purpose of.

Jefferson ignored all of the nonsense as he pulled his car up on the side of the road that led to Regina’s palace, his mind focused entirely on his destination. He had one purpose and that was to be here for his friends, for their son, who he couldn’t help but notice would be absent from the discussion. The whole thing was a sham, he thought as he left the vehicle, slamming the door shut so hard that passers by turned to stare. They would be staring a whole lot more if he had anything to say about it.

Still in the car, Grace unclipped her seatbelt and turned in place to peer in the direction they had come, at the throng of people who were walking or riding horses up the hill. Jefferson had seen the worry in her eyes when he’d told her they would come and wanted nothing more than to hold her close and promise her that everything would be okay. 

“I think they have the right idea,” she said as she got out of the car and came to his side. “We still have a long way to go.”

“We made it ahead of everyone behind us,” Jefferson told her, hating the way his voice sounded short and angry, but unable to put on the pretense of anything else. Too many people had been grumbling about demons and curses and darkness again, and his patience with it was wearing thin.

Grace turned her head to look at him as they all but jogged past the slower pedestrians. “Papa…” He didn’t answer and she caught his sleeve in her hand, an action meant to draw his attention to her, one that worked.

Jefferson glanced down at where she touched him and swiftly caught her hand in his own, squeezing it tightly. “It’s all right, my Grace. I’ll behave.”

“I don’t want you to behave,” she said, surprising him. “I just want you to be all right.”

“I will be when this is all over,” Jefferson promised, wishing it would be true.

They climbed the curving road with a multitude of others, a few were dressed in the modern clothing of the realm they now lived in, but most wore the finest attire from their own lands. He and Grace had opted for traditional dress, Jefferson in leather pants and the nicest of his shirts and vests, with the silk scarf Rumple had made for him tied at his neck. Grace had insisted on the scarf, saying that even if it seemed old, it was a part of the family they had come to support. She had opted to wear her mint green dress with the golden embroidery Rumple had added for the very same reason. Jefferson noticed as they hurried along that for once the pair didn’t look as if they’d come from a cottage in the woods. They blended right in with the higher classes granted access to the Queen’s domain. They looked as if they belonged.

As father and daughter rounded the eternal bend in the hillside, guards began to appear, spaced out along the road like glorified traffic cones. Standing in such an arrangement as to slowly press the mob closer together, the black forms discretely funneled visitors from the width of the road to bottleneck at the castle’s large doors. It was a tight squeeze for several minutes, but once inside the crowd was allowed to spread out again, milling about on stairs or making their way to other rooms under the supervision of escorts.

Jefferson eyed everything carefully, then caught Grace’s hand and held fast. “Come with me,” he told her quietly. “I know _exactly_ where we need to go.”

He led her through the press of bodies and turned suddenly down a mostly deserted corridor, their shoes tapping out a hurried rhythm as they rushed along. “Papa, everyone else is going to the great hall,” she protested though she didn’t resist his guidance.

“So are we,” Jefferson told her as he slipped through one door and then another to make his way through the maze of hallways and staircases meant for servants and other unseemly residents. “Unlike most of the people out there, I’ve been here before and I know a few secrets.”

Opening one, final door, father and daughter were bombarded with chatter and the shuffling of feet. The crowd from outside was pressing in from the back of the room, but Jefferson and Grace, by way of their avoidance of the main thoroughfares, were granted immediate access to a cluster of unclaimed chairs several rows back from the platform that housed the royal thrones. Stepping around cameras and long black cables, Jefferson dropped into the nearest seat on the outside aisle and let out a breath of relief, then chuckled at his ability to sneak them past the guards who would have undoubtedly turned them around at the base of the castle stairs. Beside him, Grace chose a more dainty position and blinked over at him curiously.

Jefferson read the question in her eyes and gave her a brilliant smile, hoping it would cover the lie he was about to tell. She wanted to know what bothered him, but he wasn’t prepared to share it. “That’s twice I’ve taken off running for this family in as many days. At this rate I’ll be coaching your school track team by the end of the semester.”

Her giggle was cut short when trumpets blasted around them, announcing the arrival of the various kings and queens of the united realms. While the chairs ahead of Jefferson and Grace filled with people who had royal ties, the more common citizens of Storybrooke hurried to find a place for themselves. Most ignored the hatter and his family, but some gave them curious glances, which Jefferson waved cheerfully back at, a broad grin on his face. 

Once the crowd had settled, each royal representative was announced, taking their places on the thrones belonging to Agrabah, Dunbroch, Arendelle, Camelot, and a countless number of others. The parade of importance was almost enough to make Jefferson’s blood boil, but he calmed himself by repeating the false notion that his friend’s family was so very important as to require all of this ceremony. He almost convinced himself, until he noted that the place meant to be taken by Belle’s own father remained conspicuously empty.

Finally Queen Snow and King David appeared, followed by the Good Queen herself, who took center stage and stood before the assembled crowd, speaking only once a signal from the sidelines indicated the cameras and microphones were turned on and broadcasting.

“Citizens of the United Realms,” Regina began, her voice loud and sure. “It has been brought to my attention that our newest arrival is being met with some feelings of insecurity. Queen Snow and King David have even heard of the spreading of rumors meant to tarnish the good name of this newcomer, who is, in fact, not a newcomer at all, but a much beloved member of one of our heroic families, a man who was _born_ here and has now returned.”

A murmur filled the room at this and Jefferson seethed as whispers of “Gold” and “Dark One” filled his ears. Grace’s hand slipped easily over his and squeezed it before she leaned in to his shoulder and whispered tenderly into his ear. “ _We_ know the truth, Papa. They do too, they just forgot it.”

In front of them, Regina carried on. “I understand that Gideon Gold is a part of Storybrooke’s past and that his actions from another lifetime struck many of you deeply. Princess Emma was herself a part of that dark history.” She lifted a hand to point out Emma, sitting in the front row of the crowd, with others who hadn’t yet earned a place on the platform. “But I feel that the town and realms beyond need to be reminded that those actions were forced upon Gideon by a villain who was the darkest of them all. It was the Black Fairy who controlled him when he first arrived here and any deeds done before his return to childhood must _not_ be seen as his own.”

“The man who returned to us last night may appear to be the same as the one who brought the final battle to us, but he is not. He grew up not under the hand of an evil soul, but in a loving home, with no memory of the things some of you are intending to accuse him of. The life he lived was full of love, respect, and kindness, without the interference of darkness snatching his heart from him. Gideon’s age is not a result of dark magic, but of a life lived in realms whose time is different from our own. He has studied diligently at Elphame Academy and the Blue Fairy assures me that he has returned with a great purpose meant to _heal_ and not harm.”

Regina took in a breath as if she would continue, but a voice from the other side of the room shouted out through the seated crowd. “Then why’d he come back like he did before? All darkness? With those monstrous beasts?”

The queen turned in the direction of the shout, scowling, but keeping a cheerful tone in her voice. “The gargoyles that brought him are friends, known by his family almost since the very day they left Storybrooke. They are creatures of the night, sleeping in the day. Like the Golds, they are heroes, protectors of their lands. Rumplestiltskin entrusted them with our location in the understanding that if he could not return Gideon himself, the gargoyles would guide him here safely.”

“Looked too much like the chernabog to me! Nobody’s met them,” the voice called back. “We don’t know _what_ they are.”

“Alice has met the gargoyles,” Queen Snow called out, lifting a hand to indicate where the woman sat. “Let her answer your questions, if you have them.”

In the crowd, a single, blue-clad form stood, hair in messy blond curls that spilled around her head, framing her face. She was the picture of elegance and it surprised Jefferson, who had never seen her in anything other than casual modern clothing. “Broadway and Lexington are kind. They’re Gideon’s _best_ friends and until he came here they were all he had left in the world. What does it matter if they fly? Don’t some of you have wings? Don’t the dragons? The fairies? They just want to take care of him.” She sat once she was finished, head tucking against another woman who sat at her side, her wife, Jefferson presumed.

Three seats down from where he and Grace had settled, a woman stood, pointing at the empty chair on the platform. “Your word against all the rest,” she snarled. “I see that the man’s own grandfather refused to stand up for him. _That_ says more to me than the words of a commoner! No matter who they’re married to.” This drew nods and loud mutterings from those seated, spectators leaning to each other to whisper into ears or talk around cupped hands.

“Friendship,” barked out someone else, farther back in the grand space. Heads turned in the man’s direction, but no one stood to claim what was being said. “That only _proves_ their darkness. The spawn of the Dark One befriending demons like that!”

Unable to take any more, Jefferson flew to his feet, ignoring the pull of Grace’s hand in his and snarled out into the room. “It doesn’t _work_ like that! How can _none_ of you understand?!” His voice cracked and rasped, straining with all of the emotions he had held back since Gideon’s arrival. There were calls for him to be silent, but he spoke over them, rasping on as best he could through the waterfall of feelings that threatened to drown him. “Oh, wait, you probably can’t see the truth for the same reason that you have all chosen to call this meeting about a man who isn’t even around to _defend_ himself!” At this stared down Regina and the others, shaming them with an icy glare.

“Order!” One of the guards finally bellowed out over Jefferson’s weakening cries.

A finger pointed out at him among the cluster of lower royals, the person attached to it curling their lip in a sneer of disgust. “What is _he_ doing here? A peasant with _no_ relation by blood or marriage to anyone on any throne? We all know this man to be mad. Guards! Send him away!”

“No!” King David practically screamed from the dais, throwing himself from his throne and striding forward almost to the point of walking straight out into the air itself. “Jefferson knew Belle and Rumplestiltskin better than _any_ of us! He is practically Gideon’s Uncle! He has _every_ right to attend this gathering and we _will_ hear him speak!” With a sharp nod to Jefferson, David took a step back. Their gazes locked and the king refused to look away, begging silently with a stare so intense that he had to be guided to his seat by his wife’s hand lest he trip on his way.

Jefferson remained silent, chest heaving, but otherwise perfectly still, knowing that the best reception he could have is one granted to him by Regina herself. He met her eyes and silently pleaded for her open acceptance. As if having read his mind, she nodded and pointed at a cleared space on the floor at her feet. “Please. We accept your knowledge of Rumplestiltskin, both as cursed man and as the father of Gideon. I welcome your expertise.”

Refusing to move from his place, Jefferson only nodded his acceptance, then turned a hard stare Emma’s way. He knew the first words out of his mouth were going to be his undoing, but he didn’t care. Let him fall out of favor with every damned member of the royal family. If it meant clearing the names of his friends and their son, so be it. “While _Princess_ Emma or her husband could say with more accuracy what it is like to be consumed by an unwanted darkness, I have spent years watching Rumplestiltskin fight against it, both in the Enchanted Forest and here, in this realm.”

“I remind you that you are speaking on Rumple-” Snow cut in, desperately trying to turn the attention from her daughter’s dark past, David clasped her hand and shook his head sharply once to still her voice.

“I am speaking on _all_ of the Dark Ones. There were more than the two, you know? You all forget that because Rumplestiltskin was able to _fight_ the darkness for so long that he lived on, _cursed_ by that dark power for centuries. There isn’t a man or woman alive now whose great grandchildren could remember the name of the Dark One who came before,” Jefferson shouted out. “Those others all sought out the darkness, let it claim them, but Rumplestiltskin, who was _tricked_ into taking on the curse that infected him, did it all for the sake of saving his first child.” He lifted a hand in a grand gesture that consumed the entire room. “You all remember that boy. He grew up to be a man we knew as Neal, a man the _prince_ is named in honor of. Tell me _now_ that the child of the Dark One can’t be a hero!”

“That proves nothing,” spat one of the doubters. “We all know that first child was not born from the curse. The darkness harmed _him_ as much as the rest of us!”

“And how many of you turned to Rumplestiltskin when you needed _help_?!” Jefferson spat back

The doubter would not be deterred. “Only that house servant of his could stand to touch that monster. She was tricked by him, tricked into servitude so that he could fill her mind with unnatural thoughts! She _had_ to have been under a spell to share her bed with him!”

Regina cried out into the room, “ _Enough_! I will not allow such improper personal suggestions be uttered under this roof!” When the room stilled she nodded back at Jefferson, returning the floor to him.

Feeling that he had more than one person on his side, Jefferson calmed, slowing his breath and adjusting his tone to something more pleasant than the shrieking of desperation that had consumed him before. He began a lecture, one that rambled, but refused to stop until every word had escaped him, pressing forward in a single breath to prevent others from cutting in. “A curse consumes the person. It is a type of infection beyond the physical from. It can’t be passed from parent to child, it must be given away, or taken. The dark curse that consumed Rumple was controlled by and passed on through the dagger which displayed the name of the person it infected. The fact that no other dark one had children is not a statement on the man or woman’s ability to _produce_ children, it is a statement on the willingness of others to see _beyond_ the curse and recognize the person beneath. Belle _saw_ the good in Rumplestiltskin that the darkness tried to snuff away before any of you. She and I watched him fight that battle every day and she recognized him as the good man he was meant to be from the start.”

“She was bewitched!” Shouted a woman on the other side of the room. “Only one under a spell could love someone so evil and the only thing that could come of their union _is_ evil. Why else did he return exactly as he had before? Do any of you truly believe the story of his aging quickly in other realms when it was the darkness that aged him the first time? What happened to his youth? That man was filled with darkness before and he has returned as he had been then, ready to destroy us all!”

Body vibrating with fury, Jefferson pushed past Grace and strode to the front of the room to grab at the first kind face he could find. Snatching Archie Hopper by the collar, Jefferson pulled him from his seat and whispered a quick apology. “Sorry. Promise this is for the greater good.” He turned then, fist raised. “If I punch this man in the face. _Attack_ him with _my_ anger, leave him beaten and bruised here before you, do _any_ of you truly believe that the darkness I feel right now has been passed to him? Would the bruises be passed to his future children? That is how the curse worked, as a bruise and nothing more. Remove it, allow the wound that created it to heal, and the man underneath is still the same.”

Beside him, Archie fought a smile and whispered, “Well done.”

“Thanks,” Jefferson answered quickly before releasing him and returning to the crowd. For a split second he thought about bringing up Emma and baby Hope, but he caught sight of Grace and squashed the idea with a single thought. He wouldn’t drag them through this. Hope was innocent, even if he believed her parents weren’t. He had no right to make her suffer just because they would not stand up with him to protect… Whoever Gideon was to the royal family.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jefferson granted himself a small amount of pride in the fact that his display with the well loved Doctor Hopper seemed to have done the trick. No one was speaking out against him now, the crowd seated and silent. “Gideon can no more be the spawn of the dark one than any of you.”

A chair scraped across the floor as someone stood to his right and Jefferson inwardly swore against what he was sure would be an oncoming protest. The man who called himself Rogers slipped quietly out of his row to the aisle and paused there a moment, seemingly uncertain. In one heartbeat Jefferson’s anger began to rise again, as he waited for the man to simply turn to leave, beginning a mass exodus of protesters. Instead Rogers approached the platform and gazed out at the crowd.

“Rumplestiltskin saved my life. He saved _all_ of us, but he gave me _his_ heart. Many of you know this, yet _none_ of you have challenged my position as Sheriff’s Detective. None of you have complained to your representatives. None of you have insisted that _I_ be rejected by everyone in this bloody town.” He turned to Regina then, asking quietly. “Your Majesty, if you could be so kind…”

Regina blinked at him, uncertain of what was being asked, but Jefferson knew right away. “His heart,” he whispered, glancing quickly at Rogers, who nodded. Regina sighed, but reached down and removed the beating muscle, which shone as brightly as one newly formed. It was a thing of pure light and absolute beauty and caused gasps of surprise and astonishment to wash over the room.

“ _This_ is the heart of the man you all know as the Dark One,” Rogers announced. “But I knew him as my friend. By all of your accusations _it_ would have infected me more than any act that created a child. You all know darkness lives in the heart. _This_ is the very part of the man you describe as a monster and a beast that would do the most harm. If _any_ of you believe that the darkness of his curse has been passed on to anyone, it would be me. So if anyone believes _I_ am the spawn of the Dark One, then let it be known now and I will remove myself as Detective immediately.”

Silence was the only answer from the crowd and after a few more beats, the heart was returned to the man’s chest. When the deed was done, Jefferson reached out to Rogers, taking his arm in a firm grasp and squeezing hard. “Thank you,” he whispered with what felt like his last breath. Unshed tears blurred his vision, but he was certain that he saw the Detective smile.

“Anything for him,” Rogers said. “For both of them.” He put a hand to his chest and glanced at Alice. “He’s my son too, in a way.”

In the stillness that followed, Regina took control, calling out a decree for every citizen to hear. “By my order and with the agreement of each of your rulers who sit before you, from this point forward all judgments on Gideon Gold will be made based off of his treatment of any person in his company, not on hearsay, and most certainly not from assumptions of his darkness. The United Realms were created to grant _everyone_ the freedom to be themselves and to be treated with kindness and respect. Prejudice of the type shown to Gideon must end.”

She continued on for some time, laying out the lines that must be followed, but Jefferson’s mind could take no more. He eased off to the side of the room and slunk back to where Grace waited for him, reaching down for her hand and guiding her away.

“Aren’t we staying, Papa?” Grace whispered softly as they slipped out the way they had come, though now they strode casually, with the meeting well behind them.

“We have done what we can,” Jefferson told her. “Everything else is up to them.”


End file.
